


Mirror, Mirror

by lil_utterance (persephone_flees)



Category: Guiding Light
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_flees/pseuds/lil_utterance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgiveness is a tricky thing (AU post Bauer barbecue)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Characters are owned by CBS, Telenext, P&G.  
>  **Trigger warning** : contains vague references to non-consensual sex (eventually)  
>  **Author's Note** : This is an eight part fic that covers a lot of ground. The first part is shorter, non-linear, and prologue-ish. The rest of the parts are much longer. The structure will make more sense as subsequent parts are posted.

****

Mirror, Mirror

**Orange**

_“And you--you shouldn’t sit so close to me. Because God is going to strike me with lightning and you’re going to want to be nice and far away.”  
“You honestly think that God is angry with you because you slept with Frank?” _

_“I don’t have the baggage that you have.”  
“Baggage. You mean Frank?”  
“No, I’m not talking about Frank, I’m not talking about Rafe, I’m not talking about Emma. I’m talking about your religion.” _

**Side 1**

Natalia stared outside the car window, numb to the beauty of the passing scenery. They had waited so long for summer--waited through cold nights, icy conditions, late snowstorms, the never ending rains--waited so long to finally be together--and here she was, driving away. Ever since yesterday, everything around her had dimmed, slowed, and she felt as if she could barely process her own thoughts, let alone the few words directed her way that seemed in any way relevant to her situation. Of the people who had crossed her path today, she mostly remembered their moods--sad, resigned, troubled, perplexed, sympathetic, shocked. She couldn’t seem to share in any of their reactions to her news, but she could remember them.

Of the words she could remember, they all belonged to someone who hadn’t had a reaction to her present situation...because she did not know about it. Olivia had seemed to be speaking to her from a great distance away, but Natalia had still heard every word--and remembered. The hope, the promises, their future--

And the soft-spoken declaration, the one Natalia had been waiting for long before she would consent to allowing it to be spoken aloud. After all the waiting, they were words she couldn’t help but remember-- _I love you_.

Natalia twisted her hands in her lap, her fingers gripped together so tightly that she finally felt like she had something to hold on to. She’d pray, but she still wasn’t ready to accept the answer to her prayers, if it differed from what she wanted.

She heard Blake shift in her seat. “Natalia,” she said softly, “it might not be my place, but I feel I have to ask you again. Are you sure about this?”

Natalia couldn’t look at her; she had never been less sure of anything. But she also knew what would happen, if she didn’t leave, and right now that thought scared her most of all.

“I’m sure,” she said, closing her eyes to block out the brightness of the day. If she had gone to the Bauer barbecue, there would have been no place to hide, and the damage she would have done to Olivia, to Emma, would have been irreversible.

Until she made her decision, it was better for all of them if she had a place to hide.

***

Natalia sat beside Blake in the hospital feeling scared and lost and alone. She didn’t even know why she was bothering with the blood test. She already knew the results, had known them since Blake first mentioned the word that described her condition.

Pregnant.

The saddest part about it wasn’t that it had taken someone else to point out what should have been glaringly obvious to her, but rather that the person who noticed didn’t even notice the correct clues. The time for the morning sickness, the nausea and the bone-deep tiredness had long since passed. Her illness the other day could be attributed to sleeplessness and to stress--which is how she had dismissed the actual signs of her condition, weeks ago.

There had been Rafe’s homecoming and the shift in jobs and the fact that she’d been dreaming, vividly, every night--not to mention remembering the contents of those dreams upon waking in the mornings. Good or bad, they were almost always unsettling, so it didn’t surprise her when her reactions to them became increasingly physical.

The dreams themselves should have been a sign. They had been there, and vivid, the last time she had...done this. But she had gone through periods of spotting several times over the last few months, and Frank had used protection, and she had sworn she would never find herself in this position again, a promise she once would have given her life to keep.

Even then, if anyone else had seen her, anyone who had more than a passing familiarity with her body, if she and Olivia had been intimate--

Dejected, she looked down at her feet, studied her shoes. She only now recognized their similarity to the Mary Janes she had worn, all those years ago, when she finally admitted it, when she first told the truth that no one expected. She wondered if on some level she had worn them today on purpose, if it was her way of admitting to herself the similarity of her mistakes.

She would be a disappointment, again.

She kept her head bowed as she focused on the black straps of her shoes and waited for results she already knew by heart.

***

_“Is it a bigger sin to love a woman or to have slept with a man outside of marriage?”_

She almost took the question back, Father Ray looked so distraught. And his discomfort was for nothing, really. She didn’t expect him to have the answer; it wasn’t even the worst of the questions that worried her.

She knew what sin she was really worried about.

_“I don’t know what I’d tell Olivia.”_

Her hesitation to speak wasn’t about the pregnancy itself. She could have done that. She could have sat there, in front of Olivia, staring at the floor once again. But aside from the obvious, the baby, she didn’t know what else she could say. Olivia had asked her for one thing -- _“If you can’t handle this, then you need to let me know. Now.”_

Natalia had meant every word, when she had affirmed her commitment. She hadn’t known what God had planned for her. She still didn’t know what He wanted her to do. And that--that was where her problem really began.

Her greatest fear, her greatest shame: she didn’t know if she could refuse Olivia, if she could maintain her resolve after seeing the expression on Olivia’s face, knowing how it would mirror her own. She didn’t know if she could do that, hurt Olivia, _even if it was God’s will for her do so._

She knew her greatest sin.

It wasn’t sleeping with a man. It wasn’t loving a woman.

It was learning she was capable of putting something - someone - above God.

Natalia knew what had happened.

She had finally been struck by lightning.

***

“Do you want to leave her something, write about it in a note?” Blake asked. “I have some stationary in my purse.”

Natalia shook her head. She wouldn’t do it, _couldn’t_ do it, for the same reason she had avoided calling Olivia after she had made her decision to leave. She knew if she thought about her continuously for the few minutes it would take to speak to her, or to write, she would go back to her. She would put Olivia before God.

Blake sighed, and then her hand was on Natalia’s hand, a gesture of comfort.

“It will be okay, Natalia. You’ll work it out.”

“I know,” Natalia said, vaguely grateful for the well-meant reassurances. She could feel Blake’s fingers resting on her own. Her hands felt nothing like Olivia’s hands.

***


	2. Chapter 2

  
**Blue**

 _“Did somebody ever throw you a shower, when you were pregnant with him?”  
“Sixteen, Catholic, unmarried? What do you think?” _

**Side 1**

Natalia wandered listlessly in the gardens outside the cloister. Once again, despite the beauty around her, she had little regard for her surroundings. A week here, and she remained as confused as when the nuns had first escorted her out here, telling her that afternoon walks were good for women in her condition.

As if she didn’t already know that.

She reminded herself that these women knew nothing of her history--and that she was already in enough trouble without taking out her frustrations on nuns.

She walked over to the small fountain in the middle of the courtyard, and lowered herself to rest on the tiles that framed the shallow pool. She studied the mosaics beneath her fingertips, patterns of ivory and faded blue. She could barely make out the meaning behind the designs, which seemed very appropriate. There was still so much she didn’t understand.

It was funny, all those years ago, she’d thought if she just had the father of her child present when she found out she was pregnant, if Nicky had been there, everything would have been fine. She had feared telling her parents far more than she had feared telling him. Oh, she knew he might not initially be thrilled by the news. He had made all these plans, wanted to travel. But she also knew that his references to wanting a family of his own were equally sincere, and he loved her, and so disappointed or not, she knew they could work something out.

Except that Nicky never came back. By the time she met him again, he was Gus. Equally committed to her and to their family, as it turned out, but not the same boy that she would have trusted, completely, with troubling news.

She had another chance now, though. Frank was back there in Springfield, waiting for her. She knew, if she told him, he would be thrilled.

And yet she felt more shame at the thought of telling him, than at the thought of telling--

\--anyone else. She hadn’t felt this way since the night she had sat down with her parents, the cross around her neck pressing its pattern into her skin.

She had talked around the subject for awhile, before she finally shortened the discussion by placing her hands on the front of her sweater and molding the material to her stomach. She had been rambling about Nicky and commitment and she didn’t even remember what else now - later discussions had made her memories of that first one suspect - but she had stopped talking, seeing if they would make the connection without needing the words. They had. Her father had gotten there first, but her mother had been only seconds behind.

*** 

_“Are you saying...?” he asked, not quite able to look at her, and then Natalia saw it, the dawning horror on her mother’s face as she realized the cause of the silence that had descended between them._

 _“Yes,” she said softly. “I’m pregnant.” She looked down at her shoes, tense, waiting for their reactions. She could feel the swell of her stomach against the waistband of her pleated skirt. She had waited as long as possible to tell them, waited for Nicky to come home, but she had seen the curves of her silhouette grow week-by-week and she knew that she had been too slim to hide it for very long._

*** 

She had sat between them, miserable in their disappointment. They hadn’t yelled, hadn’t been physically intimidating. They never threatened to disown her or to throw her out of their home. To her face, they hadn’t even been angry--just disappointed. The word ‘abortion’ never came up in conversation.

If she hadn’t heard them discussing her in their bedroom late at night, after they thought she had fallen asleep, Rafe might have spent his early years in the same house as his grandparents.

*** 

_“She should give it up for adoption.” Her mom spoke quietly, but the street traffic had died down hours ago and in the resulting silence, sound carried. “There’s no reason this should ruin her life.”_

 _“She should have to live with the consequences of her actions. God has seen fit to punish her for her sins.”_

 _Her mother said something, voice low, in protest, that Natalia couldn’t hear, but her father’s next sentence rang out clearly._

 _“Maybe if she hadn’t-”_

 _Natalia didn’t understand what his next words meant. It would be years before she heard them again, when the economy was bad enough that she took a job at a motel she normally wouldn’t even consider entering. The night she heard them, finally understood them, she had gone back to her apartment, stared out the window at the condemned building across the street, and cried. Her rosary beads had been wet with her tears as she slipped them through her fingers, and she couldn’t speak the words as she asked for forgiveness again._

 _However, it appeared her mother understood his words well-enough, because she said his name, once, harshly, and after that their voices quieted down to whispers Natalia couldn’t hear._

 _She had laid awake all night, staring at the ceiling. Until then, she hadn’t really thought about the baby inside her as a punishment. She had considered it a consequence, of course; she still didn’t know how they had been so careless. But it hadn’t occurred to her to think of Nicky’s baby as a punishment from God._

 _In theory, she knew what she and Nicky had done was a sin; the Church had been very clear on that particular subject. Yet it hadn’t felt like one at the time, all tenderness and awkward fits-and-starts and laughter--so much laughter. Nicky had looked so awestruck the first time she let him unbutton her dress; the joy he took in her body seemed like something God had made._

 _Still, she had known they should have waited--but they were promised to each other, and she wanted him so badly. Her parents would never allow them to marry, not until they graduated from school, and they would fight her even then, if Nicky didn’t manage a good job._

 _So they decided not to wait. They figured it was just practice, for their future--at least they wouldn’t have to worry about an awkward wedding night._

 _And now here she was, alone, five months pregnant. As punishments went, it now seemed very obvious. She had committed a sin._

 _But it was her sin, unconnected to the child inside her. It deserved no blame._

 _If she stayed here, with her parents, she feared this distinction would be lost. The child would be held equally guilty, either dismissed or judged more harshly._

 _And if she didn’t leave, her parents would start pressuring her as soon as she was done with school, to marry, and it would be difficult to fight them._

 _It would be hard, in part, because she understood some of their motivations. They would want to ensure her safety--give her a chance to live without constantly worrying about her ability to afford day-to-day necessities. With her present skill set, her job prospects were not encouraging, and she had seen enough people around her struggle to support families with incomes far below the poverty line to understand what such a future held for her._

 _But it would also be hard to fight her parents because, in some ways, it would be so very easy to submit to their wishes. She knew that she was pretty, knew that even with a baby it wouldn’t be so very difficult to find someone, possibly in her church, willing to accept her as a wife. Some would even enjoy the idea that they had played a role in her reformation. They would probably be very nice, and she wouldn’t have to deal with so many of the worries that were keeping her awake right now._

 _And yet..._

 _It had been so good with Nicky. She had loved him - still loved him - and having known the real thing, she didn’t want to commit herself to anything else. It wouldn’t be fair to her, to her husband--or to her child. She didn’t want this baby growing up with a mother who married only out of fear._

 _And she didn’t think that two wrongs could make a right. If marriage was sacred in the way the Church claimed, trapping a man in a loveless union could be nothing less than profane. She couldn’t stand there, before God, and pretend it was anything else._

 _In the dark, she clutched her quilt to herself, willing herself to stick to her decision._

 _By the time that the sun finally came up, she knew what she was going to do._

*** 

_She had waited until a few months after she had Raphael before she disappeared._

 _The time that had intervened between when she had made her decision and when she carried it out had only reinforced to her the necessity of her choice. Even so, her first night alone in the shelter, her meagre savings in a suitcase below her cot, left her feeling shaken. Had she been forced to stay there more than a few nights, she might not have managed to keep to her resolution. However, she found a job much more quickly than she anticipated, in a small hotel where they needed extra hands badly enough to not inquire too closely as to the precision with which she stated her age._

 _It was the first time Natalia traded on her perceived innocence, as no one believed that the act that resulted in Rafe’s conception had been a knowing one. She overheard a conversation late one night between one of the desk clerks and his wife that caused her to flush with shame._

 _“...must have tricked her, or worse, for her to have that baby.”_

 _She caught a few pitying glances over the next few days that let her know that this wasn’t an isolated opinion, and suddenly everything made sense. She had wondered why several of the employees had taken such an interest in her. The hotel manager had gone so far as to help her find an apartment nearby. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and it was small, but it was better than what she had thought she would be able to afford, and she had been grateful._

 _Once she found out, she tried to correct the misconception, but she had already accepted the favors, and with Nicky apparently gone for good, she didn’t have much evidence to back up her assertions. So she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the fact that everyone around her thought she was a victim._

 _Mostly, she concentrated on trying to survive. It was a difficult life, but it was an honest one, and she worked her best to make sure that Rafe knew that he was the one thing in her life she had never regretted. That she saw him only as a blessing, and nothing else. In time, she even started questioning her father’s assumptions about God and punishment._

 _Because, if God punished all her sins by giving her gifts like Rafe, she didn’t know how it discouraged her from continuing to sin. In the end, she left that to her prayers and to the Bible, to her conscience and to confession. She focused on her faith, and on her and Nicky’s son._

*** 

But in her secret heart of hearts, she always wondered. And then, as Rafe approached adulthood, her fears seemed to be confirmed. The detention center, Daisy’s abortion, Jeffrey, prison--

The sins of the parents are always visited upon the children.

Through all of it, she never said a word. Not to Olivia, not even to God. She convinced herself that she still had her faith, and that no one was being punished.

Natalia placed her hands over the curve of her stomach and bit down on her lip.

But now, there was this.

She couldn’t help it, she had to ask: had she resisted God’s will back then? If she had given Rafe a father, would any of it have ever happened?

She had resisted marrying, twice. The first time, Rafe had borne the consequences.

If she resisted God’s will again, what burden would she place on this child?

She felt no more inclined to marry Frank for the sake of this child, then she had to marry a nameless, faceless husband all those years ago. Once again, it seemed a betrayal of both herself and her principles. But she’d had so much trouble praying lately...

Worst of all, the image she couldn’t get out of her mind was one of Olivia shattered-apart and crying, desperately trying to do the right thing on Natalia’s wedding day.

How could she even think of doing that to them again?

*** 

  
**Blue**

 _“You have got to stop doing this. You've got to stop seeing yourself as this put-upon woman who is just waiting for the next catastrophe. Do you even know who you are? You! You raised a kid all all by yourself from the time you were a teenager..._

 _“...your son's in prison and you still haven't lost faith. You don't feel sorry for yourself. You don't run around hurting other people or drinking too much or sleeping with losers. You're a freaking superhero, Natalia.”_

 **Side 2**

 _“She doesn’t want to see you.”_

At first, Olivia couldn’t even process the words. It was like the sharpest of cuts; for a moment she felt absolutely no pain.

Then she took a deep breath--and she ran. She concentrated on getting away from everyone, hoping she could get out of sight before the truth of what Blake had told her seemed real. She barely made it.

When it hit, she didn’t even try to stop the tears. She cried so hard that her body shook; she knew she would be sore in the morning. Not that it mattered. Natalia had hurt her in the only way that mattered.

She should have known about this. Should have been _prepared_ for this. Had it been anyone else, anyone but the one person she really trusted, she would have been looking for the signs. Already she could feel herself cataloguing all the warnings, too-aware of how many she must have missed.

She knew what this was like. She had practically memorized the script.

She had watched too many people she loved walk away.

Except this time, it was different. _Natalia_ was different.

And this time, for the first time, Olivia didn’t even know why she had been left here, alone.

***

Emma didn’t know what to do when her mom’s cell phone started ringing. She wasn’t supposed to answer it.

She glanced towards the bed where her mom was sleeping to see if the sound had made her wake up. She frowned when she saw that it hadn’t made her move at all; her mom was in the same position she had been in since she had driven them home from the school.

Emma knew what she had been taught to do. She was supposed to let the call go to voicemail. But that’s not what she wanted to do. She knew who was calling and she liked him. Talking to him always made her mom happy.

Slowly, she picked up the phone, pausing before she actually pushed any buttons. She decided it was like talking to strangers. She wasn’t supposed to do that either, but she was allowed to talk to people she did know.

She pressed the top button and quickly put the phone to ear, afraid that he would already be gone.

“Uncle Sam!” she said.

***

Sam smiled at the voice on the other end of the phone. Although he had seen her only a handful of times since her birth, in her excitement, Emma always reminded him of Olivia, when she was in one of her very best moods.

“I didn’t know you had your own phone,” he said, knowing very well that she did, and this was not it. “What? Are you driving now too?”

“No.” Emma giggled, but it was an oddly hushed sound. “And this isn’t _my_ phone.”

“That must make it your mom’s. Where is she, by the way?”

“She’s asleep.”

Sam checked his watch again, just to be sure, but it was around the time he had thought. What was Olivia doing sleeping, when it was still afternoon in Springfield? He tried to ignore his guilt that it had taken him this long to call. He had meant to call Liv months ago, but his work schedule had been so brutal lately, and she had sounded so good the last time he talked to her...

“Has she been sick again, Emma?”

“No. She’s sad. And Natalia’s not here to make her feel better.”

Well, now that was an interesting development, he thought. Olivia had very few female friends, and she had never mentioned this one to him. He would have to congratulate her, when he saw her again, for being able to put away the claws.

“Who’s Natalia?” he asked, curious as to Emma’s take on her mother’s new friendship.

“She’s my other mommy.”

“Your other-” Sam caught himself. Emma didn’t seem self-conscious about the subject, and he didn’t want to be the one to change that, if what she had just said meant what he thought it meant.

“I did a school presentation about her and my Mom for family day,” Emma said proudly. “It’s online--do you want me to send you the link?”

“Sure,” Sam managed, glad that Emma couldn’t see his face. He wondered if his sister would ever stop surprising him.

Or, for that matter, if she would ever stop worrying him. Because, as he thought back over the conversation, it didn’t take very long to put all the pieces together--and he really didn’t like the picture that was forming.

What kind of trouble had Olivia gotten herself into now?

***

Olivia hadn’t realized she could feel this type of frustration. Usually, when she felt this devastated, this alone, sex was exactly what she needed. For a while, she didn’t have time to think or regret or do anything else besides please and be pleased. It took her whole attention--she never lost focus.

Except that, this time, she couldn’t lose herself.

In some ways, the reasons were obvious. In and of itself, Josh’s beard broke her illusions. But in most ways, it was more subtle. She had wanted to look Natalia in the face, when she touched her, and she knew what Natalia’s breath felt like on her lips. This wasn’t it--this wasn’t what she wanted. Or at least not all of her.

Her body was not as confused as her mind, her heart. Her body recognized Josh’s body, and it had been so long for her that it wasn’t particularly surprising that she had responded immediately to the feel of his hands, warmth flaring into a burn as his fingers slipped underneath the material of her shirt.

She had never felt this kind of a division within herself. Her body wanted the release so badly, _needed_ the release and the oblivion it would provide, and yet...

She pulled back from him and shook her head, barely able to meet his gaze. Logically, there was no longer any reason for her to stay celibate, but logic seemed to have abandoned her when Natalia did--she didn’t know the reason for anything, anymore.

When he asked her what she needed, she surprised herself with the honesty of her response-- _“Can you just hold me?”_

She saw something flicker in his eyes, most likely the memory of the last time he had done that for her, and everything that had come afterwards.

When he agreed to her request, she worked to hold back the tears he had to have seen welling in her eyes. He put his arms around her, and she didn’t even care if he was doing it out of guilt, or friendship, or because he felt like he owed her.

She just wanted to be held.

***

Olivia walked inside her hotel room and dropped her purse on the floor, too tired to avoid stumbling as some of its contents rolled under her feet. She was not expecting the words that came out of the darkness.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been the one waiting up for you.”

The undeniable familiarity of that voice was the only reason she wasn’t in immediate need of another transplant. Still, she could feel her heart beating in her chest, and she glared in his direction as she flipped on the light.

“Jesus, Sam, you scared me.” Her irritation at his method of announcing himself in no way prevented her from enveloping him in an enthusiastic hug. She had missed him.

“You’re pretty scary yourself,” he said, returning the hug. He looked down at her, his demeanor studiously nonchalant. “What have you been up to tonight?”

The way he searched her face made Olivia want to look away. This close, she knew he could see the ravages of the past month in her appearance. She couldn’t hide the circles under her eyes or the dropped weight, and she knew the smell of alcohol had to be strong on her breath.

She pulled away from him as she answered his question. “Errands.”

“Errands. In the middle of the night?”

“Who let you in anyways?” she asked, moving towards the area in the room that functioned as a makeshift bar. She pulled out two glasses as a way of distracting herself from asking him questions to which she'd really like the answers. Such as, who had filled him in on her situation here in Springfield? In this instance, the usual culprits didn't seem very likely.

“Your daughter greeted me at the door, accompanied by the woman who was watching her-” he thought a moment, “Jane.” He moved over to stand beside her. “She’s very protective, by the way. It’s a good thing Emma still recognizes me, and that you have me listed in your emergency contacts.”

“Where is Jane?”

“I let her go early tonight. Before she left, she filled me in a little on how busy you’ve been keeping her.”

“Not anymore,” Olivia muttered. She reached for the vodka. “You want yours with tonic?”

He put his hand on the bottle, preventing her from picking it up. “I like to party as much as the next guy, but I think you’ve had enough.”

“Sam-”

“You’ve got to stop this, Liv. And I’m not just talking about the drinking. You can’t keep punishing yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, Sam, but I’m fine.” She forced herself to take her hand off the bottle and look up at him. “Really.”

“You are not fine.”

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We all go through rough patches.”

“A rough patch? I heard the door open from down the hall, and I know who lives there. You were with Josh Lewis. Please explain to me the line of thinking that leads you back into that man’s bed.”

“Don’t you start with me. You just got here--I don’t want to have to start accusing you of sounding like Reva before we’ve even had a chance to make fun of her.” She sighed at the determined look on his face. “Josh and I didn’t sleep together, okay? We just-”

He held up his hands. “I don’t need to know any of the details. I saw more of you and Josh together back when you were married to him than is good for a developing mind. I think you still owe me some therapy.”

“That can probably be arranged-”

“I don’t want to joke, Sis. I didn’t like what he did to you then, and I’m not convinced I’m going to change my mind now.”

“You always seem to forget that I’m a big girl, Sam. I can take care of myself.”

“I _know_ you can, but you’re not. What you’re doing right now is not good for you.”

She turned away from him and started fidgeting with the glasses again. “Thanks for not judging me.”

“That’s not what this is about.” He looked at her for a moment, silent, and she could see the worry etched in his face. She wondered how much he had guessed. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, and Olivia had never been so glad to have him here, in her life. “I’m concerned about you, that’s all,” he said. “I talked to Emma on the phone the other night...”

Olivia closed her eyes in understanding. Of course. “Emma told you.”

“Not everything, I think.” He reached out and slid the vodka bottle towards her. “Why don’t you pour us both a drink, and tell me about it. I‘m a very good listener.”

“And so modest, too,” she said, blinking back the tears that seemed ever-present these days. She reached for the bottle and started pouring their drinks.

“Must run in the family.”

Olivia looked over at him then, and managed her first genuine smile of the day. She handed him his drink and they moved to sit side-by-side on the bed.

“How much do you know?” she asked him.

“Emma only gave me the basics.”

“But you’re a very bright boy.”

“Hey, your life is too complicated for me to be able to fill in all the blanks.” He took a sip of his drink. “So, what happened?”

Olivia shrugged and ran a finger along the top of her glass. “You know how it always seems to start.” She couldn’t help the emotions that crept into her voice as she allowed herself to think of Natalia. “I fell in love.”

***

“I get that you’re hurting, Olivia,” he said to her, hours later, when she had finally stopped speaking. She didn’t know when she had last felt this drained, and she felt indescribably thankful when he put another drink in her hand. “But you’re worrying your daughter.”

“I know. I thought about maybe sending her to stay with Ava for awhile, but now that you’re here-”

“I think you need Emma right now, and after her scare last year, dealing with your transplant, she needs you.” He leaned towards her, his expression earnest. “You know me. I’ll take care of her. I’m sure Ava would take care of her. But we shouldn’t have to. You’re stronger than this, Liv. I know you. I’ve seen you bounce back from worse-”

“No, Sam.” Olivia felt shame as her voice cracked, but it quickly faded. In the list of things she had done while grieving, it was passing, unimportant. “You haven’t. I loved Natalia. I trusted her. She was it for me. And I screwed it up.”

“How? How is this _your_ fault?”

“I should have seen...” Olivia took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. “She had to have been in so much pain...”

“Olivia-”

“I had convinced myself I was good for her, that she was happier with me. Maybe even...a better person...with me. But for her to do something like this...”

Despite her best efforts, Olivia started crying. Admitting defeat, she did nothing to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. She could barely see her brother anymore. “This is the type of thing I do, Sam. Do you understand? Not her.”

“Liv,” he said gently, taking her hands. “If there’s a pattern here, it’s that you’ve been let down before. Don’t you think-”

“I’ve done nothing _but_ think. Early on, I thought she might leave one day. But I thought it would be because I pushed her away. You know, got scared, slept with someone like Josh, betrayed us. My usual. Not like this.”

“Look at me, Sis.” He waited until she complied, before he continued, carefully emphasizing his words, “ _She_ betrayed _you_.”

For one moment, Olivia didn’t try to hide any of her pain. “I’ve never seen her break a promise,” she whispered.

“Didn’t she promise to marry Frank?”

“She left him at the altar. She couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t lie, not in front of God. But she could lie to me.” She dropped her head forward, let it rest on her brother's shoulder. It was so much easier to admit it, when she didn’t have to look at him. “I didn’t make her a better person, Sam. I can’t do that for anyone. It’s probably good for both of us that she left me.”

“I get it,” Sam said, and she felt rather than saw his shrug. “She’s good, you’re bad.” He let her cry for a few minutes, waiting until the worst of it had passed before he said, softly, “If that’s true, then how come you’re the one sitting here with a broken heart?”

***

Sam saw Ava standing by herself at the funeral and, as a family member, felt compelled to walk over and provide her company, even though he would rather stand off to the side, by himself.

When she saw him approaching, she attempted a smile. It was almost a success.

“Hi, Sam.”

“Ava.” He nodded respectfully. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Although her gratitude seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but notice she was already distracted. He followed the line of her gaze and realized she was staring at Olivia.

“Do you want me to get her for you?” he asked.

“No, she’s talking to Josh, and I think that makes her feel better.” Sam kept his opinion on that statement to himself, but felt his respect for Ava grow as she continued to speak. “She needs that right now.”

“Yes, she does.”

She turned back to him. “I’ve never seen her like this. Have you?”

“No. I mean, it was bad with Josh, but nothing like this.” He had thought that it couldn’t get any worse than after her first marriage collapsed, when she had closed herself off to everyone and let bitterness eat away at so many of the parts of her that he loved. But nothing could compare to this quiet devastation.

“I couldn’t believe how much she shared with me today. It’s not like her.”

“She’s changed,” he agreed. In exactly what ways, he was still working to figure out. A lot of what he saw seemed good, but then there was also the fact that he had never seen her so utterly defeated. Before, she had always managed a brave face, always came up with some new project to distract herself from her relationship woes. Now, she didn’t even seem to want to try to get over this woman. Natalia.

Ava offered him a sideways glance. “So, you know about...?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever meet Natalia?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t even know she existed until very recently.”

“How is that possible?”

“Before I cam here, I had last talked to Olivia in the fall. She mentioned something at the time about hiring an assistant who had become her live-in caretaker. I was so relieved she had someone to look after her that I didn’t pursue the matter further.” The fact that he had left the country two days later hadn’t helped, but he was hardly going to make excuses for himself. “Now, of course, I wish I had followed up.”

“We both need to be better about staying in touch with her."

He thought that maybe Ava's declaration was meant as a rebuke to him until he realized that her expression held no judgement. Olivia’s daughter, then.

“What was she like?” he asked. “The woman who broke my sister’s heart?”

“Until recently, I would have said she was the nicest person I ever met.”

He looked over at his sister and saw only pain. “You’ll pardon me if I remain unconvinced.”

***

Olivia didn’t know why she was sitting on the church steps. This was not a place where she found comfort. She thought maybe it had more to do with her search for answers that she might never find. All she knew was that this was the place where Natalia had made the choice to leave.

"Olivia?"

She looked around at the sound of her name and felt a dull sort of surprise as she recognized the woman walking towards her. “Sister?”

She could see Sister Anne pause, whatever greeting she had planned left unspoken. Olivia would give people credit--everyone around her seemed to realize the inanity of offering her cheerful greetings right now. She just wished people would come right out and tell her she looked awful. It irritated her to watch them talk around the subject.

Sister Anne continued to study her for a moment, then moved to sit down on the steps. Olivia liked that she chose a place a little distance away; she always appreciated people who respected her space.

“Can I offer you something, Olivia? Maybe someone to talk to?”

Olivia shook her head. She really didn’t want to to talk to a member of a religious order right now, not even one whom she actually respected.

“There’s nothing I can do to help?”

“Unless you’re willing to break someone out of a convent, I don’t think we have very much to say to each other.” The confusion on the Sister’s face gave Olivia no satisfaction--it only made her tired. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’ve had a bad week.”

“I had thought to find you happier. I had heard...”

“You too?” Olivia laughed, unable to hide her bitterness. “I don’t know why we were even going to bother with the barbecue.” She gestured to herself, sitting alone on the church stairs. “Are you happy with the answer to your prayers?”

“I don’t believe I gave any indication of engaging in such prayers the last time we spoke,” Sister Anne said, and her response was made with such quiet dignity that Olivia couldn’t feel offended by the reproof.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

To her surprise, Olivia found that she did. It was as close as she would ever come to a confession. “She left me, Sister,” she said. “Right here. I know she had to have made the decision inside this church. Father Ray said-” Olivia caught herself before she insulted Natalia’s priest to a nun. Besides, what he said didn’t really matter. He couldn’t have convinced Natalia to go if she didn’t want to leave.

“Father Ray...” Sister Anne pressed her lips together and glanced back towards the church. Olivia didn’t know her all that well, but she thought the look that passed across her face might have been one very near to anger.

***

The door to the study was open, so she walked in without waiting for an invitation. Father Ray was immediately aware of her presence, looking up from his writing with a smile of greeting.

“Anne,” he said, “I see you’re as early as usual. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” she said as she followed their weekly routine and pulled one of the straight back chairs closer to the front of his desk. She sat down with the economy of movement she had perfected over the years and clasped her hands in her lap.

She watched as he put everything aside, minimizing distractions. His pen went in the top drawer, his handwritten pages inside a folder on the left side of the desk. She used the few moments of silence he had given her to calm herself--and to send up a quick prayer. When he looked up again, she was ready.

“Father,” she said evenly, “we need to talk.”

***


	3. Chapter 3

  
**Violet**

 _“Well, it must be nice to know how you feel. It must be nice to be so sure.”  
“I’m not sure about anything.”_

 _“So what does God want for me? Am I supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?”  
“No, I can’t imagine that.”  
“Or maybe God has someone for me and it’s just not who I expected.”_

 **Side 1**

After two weeks in the convent, Natalia had found only one location where she could regularly find peace. It was a small chapel she had discovered completely by accident in one of the far gardens, those that were left to grow as they pleased, mostly untended. Sister Alice had told her the building was due for renovation in the fall, but had not hesitated to acquiesce to Natalia’s request to be allowed to perform her morning prayers there, assuring her it was structurally sound.

Although nothing in the convent could be described as ostentatious, Natalia liked the simplicity of this building, its unadorned interior. Even more than that, she liked that it stood off by itself, to the side of the main buildings. The location seemed appropriate considering that she spent most of her time praying about problems that the Church didn’t appear to fully understand. So many of the people around her thought the teachings were clear, but no matter how much she prayed, she couldn’t make her faith transparent again. She didn’t know what was best for anyone, anymore.

In the silence of the early morning light, she bowed her head, and prayed.

She didn’t look up again until she heard the sound of footsteps at the doorway. The sisters must have decided to send someone to offer her counsel this morning. Some days they did that; the chosen nun would join Natalia in her front pew, sitting a respectful distance away from her, waiting until she had finished her morning prayers to break the silence.

Natalia always refused to speak to them. Oh, she would exchange greetings, and she would answer the questions posed to her respectfully, but she never went any further.

She still didn’t know what to say.

Natalia didn’t recognize the nun that approached her today, but she was immediately struck by the quiet confidence of her manner--with no visible effort, the other woman belonged in the room. Even without a habit, she seemed particularly well-suited to the austerity of her surroundings, with her plain, dark colored dress, and her fair hair neatly bound.

As Natalia had predicted, the woman walked up to her row of pews and sat down beside her. However, rather than attempting to speak to her, the nun simply studied Natalia’s profile, her expression contemplative.

After a few minutes, Natalia found the silence unnerving. “Did you come here to speak with me, Sister?”

The nun shrugged. “They say you won’t speak with anyone.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I thought you might like some company.”

The sister looked away from her then, her gaze moving to the front of the room. The two of them sat there, side-by-side, quiet, for what seemed like a very long time. Much to her surprise, Natalia realized that as she adjusted to no longer having the room to herself, she did find the other woman’s presence here to be calming, almost comforting.

“Why did you come here, Natalia?” the sister finally asked, her voice soft, her gaze never moving from the front of the room.

For the first time in weeks, Natalia discovered her own voice. “To find answers,” she replied, the words even quieter than the question that had been directed her way.

“I see. Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Natalia’s laugh was soft, broken. “How can you change your life when you don’t understand what God is trying to say?”

“Why do you think you need to change your life?”

“When God feels the need to repeat the same lesson, you start thinking that maybe you should listen.” When the sister looked at her questioningly, Natalia indicated the swell of her stomach. “This isn’t my first unplanned pregnancy. I had my first child, a son, when I was sixteen. I wasn’t married then, either.”

The sister tilted her head, studying her. “So you think your son was what, then? A lesson?” She paused, holding Natalia’s gaze. “A punishment?”

“No, of course not!” Natalia felt horrified, hearing her father’s words echoed back to her. She felt even more horrified when she considered that it was uncomfortably close to her own line of thinking, the past few days. “I could never think of Rafe as a punishment.”

“But you still generally feel as if you’re being punished?” When Natalia was silent, the sister nodded. “You know,” she said slowly, seeming to choose her words with great care, “it’s a difficult task, interpreting the events of our lives. Why are you so convinced that your present trials are punishments?”

“I don’t know how they could be something other than the effects of my lifestyle choices.” Natalia didn’t like Father Ray’s words - had never believed them before - but at the moment she was having trouble refuting them. “You see, in the last few months, in addition to getting pregnant, I also fell in love with a woman. Olivia.” She couldn’t believe how much it hurt, just to say her name. “We were going to announce our relationship, before...” she trailed off, unwilling to state the obvious.

“Do you think your love for her is a sin?”

Natalia had braced herself for any number of reactions: surprise, judgement, disgust, maybe even pity. She found herself more taken aback by the simple curiosity of the question then she would have been had the sister visibly recoiled and condemned her.

“I didn’t...” Natalia searched for the right words. “I had prayed so much, and we had fought so hard, to be together. She doesn’t share my faith, Sister, but she respects it. She says she understands that it gives me strength. I hadn’t thought that we...” She took a deep breath, tried to clarify her thoughts. “God is love, so I thought that He’d...”

The sister reached out and touched her hand. “God is love, Natalia,” she said earnestly. “So, why is punishment your first interpretation of the reason for your present trials? The Bible also says that God tests those who He loves and whose faith is strong, in order to make them even stronger. You say that others have commented on the nature of your faith--did you think it would never be tested?”

“Test all things and hold fast to that which is good,” Natalia murmured to herself. She frowned. “So, you’re saying that God is fine with the fact that I slept with a man outside of marriage?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying that listening to your guilt is not the same as listening to God.” She looked at Natalia then, and it was all Natalia could do not to look away. “When you came here, were you running towards answers or away from something that made you feel guilty, or afraid?”

Natalia felt a weight lifted from her, as she made her confession. “If I hadn’t left, I would have stayed with Olivia, no matter what God wanted from me.”

“Do you think God would have asked you to choose? Maybe you were reluctant to leave-”

“-because I was supposed to stay,” Natalia finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt her own words as if they had a physical impact; she wanted so much for them to be true.

“I don’t have those answers, Natalia,” the sister said, standing. “But I think you need to ask yourself why it is that you are so afraid that God might be willing to give you what you want.”

She turned and started to walk away, then hesitated. After a moment she moved back to stand by Natalia’s pew. “Father Ray wanted me to tell you that you remain in his prayers.”

Natalia couldn’t hide her surprise. “Father Ray sent you?”

“Father Ray knows that I’m here, and he wants you to find peace.”

Natalia thought she understood the nature of what the other woman had left unsaid, but she found herself touched just the same. “Give him my thanks, if you see him again.” For the first time in the conversation, she remembered her manners. “And you have my thanks as well, Sister...” she trailed off, realizing that she had never asked the other woman’s name.

“Anne.”

Natalia made the connection almost instantly. She had kept that conversation from her wedding shower in the back of her mind, always meaning to ask Olivia about it.

“You’re the nun that met with Olivia.”

“I know Olivia, yes.”

“She said you exchanged business cards--that you and some of the other nuns wanted to rent the Beacon ballroom...?”

Sister Anne smiled, clearly amused. “That sounds like something Olivia would say,” she said, neatly sidestepping the question.

Natalia caught the hint and tried to leave it alone...and failed miserably.

“Why did Olivia really meet with you?” she asked softly, almost pleadingly.

Sister Anne stared at Natalia for a moment, and when she spoke, the words were kind, but very firm. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

Natalia thought that Anne might have said more to her - well wishes, a good-bye, a blessing - but she barely heard it. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to think about the one person she had purposefully blocked from as many of her thoughts as possible. Olivia.

That Olivia would do that for her, would care enough about her to put herself through that kind of discomfort to better understand her and her religion...

Natalia knew that Olivia had sacrificed before, so that she could have the comfort she derived from her faith. Olivia had sat in church with her, and she had held hands at the dinner table and said grace with her, but the idea that Olivia would seek out a nun at a time when she had little to no hope of ever benefiting from the action, that she would make enough of an impression on Sister Anne that the nun had sought out Natalia upon learning she had sequestered herself here....

The knowledge utterly floored her. If Olivia would do this for her, Olivia would do _anything_ for her. How could she ask for a better partner in life? How could her child ask for a better parent?

How could such a love be anything other than good?

And how could she have gotten so confused?

She honestly believed what she had told Olivia, that God just wanted them to be happy. But then, when faced with the consequences of a mistake - one that reflected an even _earlier_ mistake - she had succumbed to the type of thinking for which she had so often chided Olivia.

How often had Olivia said it? _“I certainly didn’t do anything to deserve this.”_

And Natalia had corrected her, and reassured her, and tried to make those type of thoughts go away...right up until she had believed it, of herself. The way that Rafe was conceived, the way that this baby was conceived, Rafe’s sins, her own sins--she didn’t deserve to be happy. She didn’t deserve the family of her choice.

She had been viewing marrying Frank as a type of penance God might require for her sins. As the only way of redeeming herself, her past, and her child’s future. She thought she’d have to choose between obeying God and giving this baby the family that she wanted for it. And she’d thought she hadn’t been up to the choice.

The truth was, she’d never had to choose at all.

She had waited so long for the things she really wanted in life that she had started believing that she would never be able to have them at all. She had gotten so caught up in her own failings that she hadn’t stopped to think that God might not be asking her to consider doing something she couldn’t accomplish. That He might not be that cruel.

She had just assumed she would fail.

If she had simply talked to Olivia, Natalia now knew the other woman would have seen right to the heart of the matter, would have seen through all the panic and posturing. Olivia had said it before, and she would probably say it again-- _“You know, for someone with such strong faith, you have so little in yourself.”_

Natalia now recognized that this was her chance to prove herself.

This was her chance to get it _right_. She could give this baby the family she had always wanted to be able to give Rafe. She could surround this baby with people who loved it.

She and Olivia could have a child together. They would both be there, from the very beginning. For the first time since hearing the news, Natalia smiled. Emma would be so excited at the idea of having a younger sibling.

And Olivia--

Natalia couldn’t think of a better mother. She thought of Olivia, of the way she was with Emma, as close as she ever came to light hearted and carefree. She thought of the way Olivia handled Rafe, when she was allowed, firm and direct, everything he really needed, and Natalia herself found so hard to provide. She thought of the way she and Olivia worked as a team, balancing each other, strengths and weaknesses, recognizing the stability such parenting would provide.

Then, for the first time in weeks, she just thought about Olivia. Of her humor, her strength, her vulnerability. The way she looked, when she first came down to the kitchen in the mornings. They way she looked, before she went to bed at night. She thought about the way Olivia smiled at her, as if she’d never seen anything so perfect--of the way Olivia’s fingers felt, as they gently brushed against her skin.

Natalia thought about Olivia until the images came too quickly and the tears ran down her cheeks. She let them fall, finally feeling herself cleansed of all the doubts and fears and sadness she had been carrying with her since she had started lying to the one person who had always been honest with her.

Natalia had accused Olivia once, of selling her short. Now she had to direct the same accusation back at herself. She should have taken Olivia’s words to heart.

Because it was Olivia, who thought her soul was a lost battleground and who still waited for lightening to strike every time she entered a church--it was Olivia, who had gotten it right, and Natalia who had gotten it wrong.

God could never hate her.

Natalia had thought she was being punished, when in reality she had so many gifts. No matter how it had been conceived, God had given her this baby. He had given her this family. He had given her this love.

He had given her Olivia.

And Natalia didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before.

***

Natalia folded the last of her shirts and placed it carefully in her bag. She would be leaving to go back to Springfield tomorrow. Although she still felt some nervousness about facing Olivia, telling her about the baby, the terror that had overwhelmed her for so long was now gone.

Mostly, she felt relief, stronger than she had ever felt it before. She wouldn’t have to hurt Olivia. She didn’t have to break her heart. There was no reason they couldn’t be together.

Most of their obstacles were already gone. They had either dealt with them together, or they had never existed. Of the few remaining, Natalia now felt ready to face them. She would talk to Rafe--and she thought that Father Ray understood.

As for the rest, it was as Olivia said. _“Everyone’s entitled to their opinion.”_

Natalia hated that her panic had already cost them several weeks together, but she felt certain that Olivia would forgive her, given the right incentives. After all, Olivia knew how much she loved her.

And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t been made to wait before.

***

  
**Violet**

 _“I wanted to say goodbye. Not to Gus, but to everything we’ve had since he died.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, you’re starting a new life, you know? A new life. A new family. And I should do the same thing.”  
“I came to say good-bye too. It’s funny how we were both thinking the same thing.”_

 **Side 2**

Olivia and Sam sat across from each other in Company, finishing up their coffee. They had dropped Emma off at camp not an hour before, and now the day stretched before them, their activities as yet unplanned. Olivia had taken the day off work, in honor of his homecoming, but so far all the questions she had asked regarding his choice of preferred activities had been met with the rather vague-sounding, “we should hangout.”

“You know,” she said, “I remember you being a much more decisive person.”

“I am decisive. I know I don’t want you to feel as if you need to entertain me.”

“What you need to do is to decide on something before Buzz feels the desire to feed us again. I discovered a long time ago that 11am is far too early for his chili.”

“You-” Sam paused, staring at something behind her. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Olivia asked, almost afraid to look. It couldn’t be, could it? Sam wouldn’t be able recognize her that quickly-

She turned around to see Josh approaching their table.

“You promised me I wouldn’t have to talk to him,” Sam said, his expression close enough to a pout that it almost distracted her from her disappointment.

She took a shaky breath and attempted a smile. “And that promise won’t be difficult to keep if you let me do all the talking.” Her eyes narrowed as he made a sound suspiciously like a snort. “I’m, serious, Sam. Play nice.”

“Don’t I always?” Sam’s grin was friendly as the older man walked up to their table. “Hi, Josh, long time. How are Reva and the kids?”

“Maura and Shayne are fine,” Josh said calmly. He studied Sam for a moment, before continuing, his voice low, “And you can probably guess how Reva is doing, considering that you were at Jeffrey’s funeral.”

Sam had the good grace to seem somewhat abashed. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” he asked, as he got to his feet. “I need to get a refill on my own.”

Josh looked faintly amused at the offer. “Coffee would be nice, yes,” he said.

“No more for me,” Olivia said, putting a hand over her cup. She mouthed a thank-you to her brother as he started to move towards the counter.

Josh waited until Sam had started talking to Buzz before he sat down in the chair across the table from her. “I see that he’s as easy to get along with as always,” he commented.

Olivia offered him her sweetest smile and patted his cheek. “It’s the Spencer charm.”

“I’m not sure what’s more frightening--that expression, or the look on your face.”

“I thought by now you’d be used to both.”

“You have a way of surprising a person. Speaking of which,” he said, studying her closely, “you seem better today,”

Olivia did her best to keep her tone light. “Sam’s visits have a good effect on me.”

“You always did like trouble.”

“Hey, that _is_ my brother you’re talking about.”

“I know. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be saying worse.” Josh shook his head as Sam glanced over at them with obvious displeasure. “He’s never going to let me live down our marriage, is he?”

Olivia pretended to consider the idea for a moment. “I don’t think so, no.”

Josh’s expression softened. “It’s good to see you smile,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot more of you lately, but today’s the first day you seem happy.”

“It’s been a pretty good day, so far.”

She knew it wouldn’t last. There would be the lows--she had yet to have a day without them. The worst time was always the period right before bed, when she found herself holding onto her cellphone, waiting for it to ring. So often, the two of them had used that time to catch up, quiet conversation interspersed with admissions of love. They never got to talk about their relationship in public, so they had learned to balance that with those private nightly conversations, when the kids were asleep, and they could relax and focus only on each other--even if they couldn’t be in the same room.

Realizing the direction of her thoughts, Olivia forced herself to focus on her companion. She noted that for the first time in weeks, he looked less dejected as well. “You know,” she said to him, putting a light note of flirtation in her voice, “you don’t look too sad yourself.”

“I think Reva’s starting to do better...” Josh stopped talking as he noticed her amusement. “Is this still a bad choice of subjects?”

“No,” Olivia said, and meant it. In the grand scheme of her life right now, the fact that she would always have a front row seat to the Josh and Reva show seemed rather inconsequential. “And even if it was, I owe you one.”

He immediately understood. “You don’t owe me anything.”

She wanted to reach out to him again, but thought it would be better for both of them if she restrained herself. “It meant a lot, what you did for me the other night,” she said quietly. At his worried look, she hastened to continue, “I’m not implying that I expect anything to come out of it. But, at that moment, it was exactly what I needed.”

“I think we all need that kind of comfort from time-to-time. Don’t worry,” he said teasingly, and Olivia could tell he was trying to ease the mood, “I won’t tell anyone you’re just like the rest of us.”

“That’s good,” she said. “For a moment there I was really worried that I’d put my reputation in your hands. I couldn’t have Reva thinking I’d failed to seduce you.”

“I suppose if I told you that remark was in poor taste, it would only encourage you?” He didn’t look at all surprised when her only response was to shrug. “I thought so.” He started to get up, then caught her eye. “You’ll call me-”

“-if I need anything.”

“Good.” He glanced over in Sam’s direction and winced. “Just one favor. Try not to invite me over until he’s gone, okay?”

Olivia didn’t even try to hide her smile. “I tell you what, I’ll only do it if I think I can’t live without the entertainment.”

Josh sighed as Sam started over in their direction, balancing two cups of coffee and a basket of muffins. “I suppose that’s something.”

***

“I refuse to believe you are telling me the truth.”

“I’m serious, Sam. I didn’t know she had gone to Phillip’s trial until he came by to thank me the next day.”

Sam glanced over at Emma, presently doing her best impression of the most well-behaved child in existence, her homework in front of her, a juice-box in her hand, and started laughing. “That must have been embarrassing for you.”

Olivia shrugged and shifted positions on the park bench she and Sam were sharing. She looked over to where Emma sat working at the picnic tables, and shook her head. “I don’t know. It did happen with Phillip, the one person I’m most dedicated to convincing that I know my daughter’s whereabouts, at all times. However, she has a habit of trying to sneak out of the house with her pockets full of bus money. It was hardly a situation I’d never encountered before.”

“I guess raising her would be easy after having to deal with me.”

Olivia smiled indulgently. “At least she doesn’t have a motorcycle.”

“Yet.”

“Don’t make me threaten to disown you.”

His smile at her joke didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re trying too hard today, Liv,” he said, studying her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She could tell he didn’t believe her, so she tried again. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” When his only response was to raise an eyebrow at her, she knew she had to admit defeat. “I ran into Rafe yesterday-”

“Natalia’s son?”

She nodded. “He is...less than pleased with her continued absence.”

“And he thought that blaming you would make him feel better.”

“It’s a tried and true technique.”

“Maybe he and I are due for a chat,” Sam said quietly.

“No,” Olivia said. She thought about it a moment, then amended, “Or at least, not right now. He might blame me, but I know that he’s scared that he’s the reason that she left.” Despite her angry words to him yesterday, she couldn’t truly wish that feeling on anyone, not even Rafe. Not even when he accused her of--

“Sounds like he’s as nice as his mother.”

“Don’t do that,” Olivia said immediately, her voice low. She held up a hand as he started to argue with her. “I mean it, Sam. Don’t.”

“Fine.” He glared at her. “But I do not approve.”

She changed the subject. “Ava called earlier today. She says she’s enjoying San Francisco...at least as much as she can, considering she just lost her father.”

“Will she be back here anytime soon?”

“No, work is going to be keeping her busy.” Olivia brightened as she remembered the last part of their conversation. “She promised to make it back here for the holidays, though.”

“I’ll be here, too.”

“You will?”

“Of course I will,” Sam said, and Olivia knew then that he felt guilty, for not being around the last year. “Did you think your family would leave you here, alone?”

“I know you’re out of the country a lot for the newspaper, Sam.”

“Not this year,” he said firmly, and she knew better than to think this was an argument worth winning. “Though maybe you’ll regret it, when you have so many people to feed. On the bright side, I think we all actually get along.”

“Did you get a chance to talk to Ava much, while she was here?”

“Yeah. I like her. She reminds me of you.” He nodded in Emma’s direction. “They both remind me of you.”

“Don’t insult my kids.”

He laughed at the look on her face, before his expression turned serious. “I want you to know that I mean it, Olivia. You have really great kids. I hope I have your luck, someday.”

“You know,” Olivia said softly, “I worry sometimes, about not having Natalia’s influence on Emma, anymore. She was so good at-”

“Stop,” he said, interrupting her. “Look, Sis, I understand if you don’t want me to insult her, but I’m not going to sit here and listen to you praise her either. Especially since every time you praise her, I know you’re comparing yourself to her and feeling like you can’t measure up.”

“Only in some ways, Sam. You’ve even said, in the past, that-”

“It doesn’t matter. Did I ever accuse you of abandoning me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Of abandoning your daughter?”

“No, but it’s not the same thing. Besides, you never knew, about Ava-”

“Liv, I swear to you, I will convince you that you are a good person before I leave, or so help me, you are never getting rid of me.” The small smile that accompanied his words removed much of the sting, and she found she could find comfort in the admiration buried in his mock-threat.

She smiled wistfully. “Then I guess you might just have to stay.”

***

“Mommy, can you bake cookies with me?”

For a moment, Olivia’s surprise kept her from uttering a word. “In our hotel room, Em?” she finally managed.

“Oh,” Emma said. She looked around as if only now realizing where she was sitting, doing her homework. “I guess not.”

Olivia recognized the miserable look on her daughter’s face as Emma picked up her pencil and stared down at her math book again. She hadn’t known, until right then, that Emma had felt Natalia’s absence as strongly as herself.

She walked over to kneel beside Emma’s chair and reached up a hand to run her fingers through the little girl’s ponytail. “You miss her too, Jellybean?”

“Yeah.” Emma looked up then, and Olivia could see her confusion. “When is she coming back from her trip?”

Olivia hesitated, finally deciding on a lie closest to the truth. “I’m not sure, Em. She forgot to tell me.”

“Does Rafe know?”

“I think she forgot to tell him, too.”

“Oh.” Emma frowned, and Olivia watched her process the information. A minute or so later, her face cleared. “Well, next time, we should remind her. Then we can count down the days, like Natalia did when Rafe was in prison.”

Olivia swallowed, hard. She didn’t know how much longer she could hide the degree to which this conversation was affecting her and she didn’t want Emma to see her upset.

She felt relieved as a solution occurred to her. “You know what, Em?” she said. “I have an idea. Do you mind if I make a phone call to your Uncle Buzz?”

When Emma shook her head, Olivia pulled out her cell phone. In a manner of seconds, she had just the person she needed on the line.

“Buzz, I need a favor.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and she could tell he was amused as usual by her brusqueness. He’d always liked that she didn’t mince words.

“Can I have access to the kitchen at Company for a few hours?”

“Sure,” he said slowly, obviously surprised. He laughed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in an apron. From what I remember, it was a good look on you.”

His words were good-humored, and she knew he was trying to get a reaction out of her, wanted her to fire back. Most of the point of their normal repartee was to keep both of them slightly off-balance--in part, because Buzz felt the need to counteract her natural tendency to overplan. Whatever his intentions, today she couldn’t find it in herself to oblige him.

“Emma wants to bake cookies,” she told him softly, knowing he would understand. “I could probably find some space in the hotel kitchen, but it’s busy in there on Thursday nights, and it’s much less personal than Company.”

“Oh. I see. Of course.” His voice deepened in commiseration, a development that might normally offend her--except that she had learned, long ago, that she didn’t usually mind Buzz’s brand of sympathy. “You know that you two are welcome here, anytime.”

“We’ll be right over,” she said, disconnecting the call.

As she got Emma ready and into the car, she had to concentrate on where she was driving, so that she wouldn’t think about where both of them would rather be.

***

Half an hour after they got back to the hotel room, Olivia found that she was still brushing flour off of her shirt. As a matter of principle, she had refused to wear one of Buzz’s aprons, and she hadn’t yet determined if her pride was worth the price of continuing to find new places where she needed to dust off her clothes.

She looked at the container of chocolate chip cookies on the table. She didn’t know what she was going to do with them all. Hopefully, Sam would be a big help.

She had absolutely no desire to eat any of them.

At least it had been a good evening. Emma had made sure to leave plenty of cookies with Buzz and Frank, insisting that they try some as soon as they came out of the oven. Olivia had expected her to taste-test as well, but Emma had been adamant: she didn’t want to eat any of the cookies until she got back to the hotel. Olivia and Buzz had exchanged puzzled looks over her head, but had left the mystery alone. Both had been parents long enough to have more than a passing familiarity with the whims of childhood.

Olivia hadn’t even said a word in protest when, upon arriving home, Emma had stacked six cookies on a plate and taken them into her room. Such an action broke more than one of their established rules, but it had been such a difficult few weeks for the both of them that she thought it best to just let it go.

But she hadn’t seen any trace of her in the last half hour, not even for a glass of something to drink. Although she generally preferred for Emma to feel like she had her privacy, she needed to check on her.

When she walked up to Emma’s door, she found it ajar; a slight push was all it took to see into the room. The sight that greeted her caused her to go still.

Emma lay curled-up on her bed, the book Natalia had given her for Christmas propped-up to the side of her, one of its edges resting against the plate of cookies. All of the cookies she had brought with her remained on the plate; only a single bite was missing from the one nearest her.

“Didn’t you like your cookies, Em?” Olivia asked her softly.

Emma looked up at her briefly, before returning her attention to her book.

“They don’t taste like Natalia’s,” she said, and what hurt Olivia the most was her suspicion that Emma was doing her very best to hide her disappointment.

In that moment, Olivia’s anger at Natalia nearly overwhelmed her. What she felt wasn’t hate, not quite, but it was as close as she ever wanted to get.

She sat down on the bed beside Emma. “I understand,” she said, pulling her daughter back against her. When Emma snuggled closer, Olivia rested her chin on the top of the little girl’s head.

They sat like that for a long time, long enough for Emma to finally fall asleep. As Olivia moved her daughter so that her head rested on her pillows, she recognized that it was time for her to do what she’d been putting off now for far too long.

***

Olivia carefully laid the bouquet of white roses on the grass. For a moment, she sat in silence, gathering her courage for what she needed to say aloud.

“I’m here to ask you how to say good-bye again,” she said softly, as she looked around the graveyard. Sighing, she focused on the task at hand, reached out to lightly touch the roses. “You would think this would be easier, the second time, but it’s not.” She bit her lip. If she could help it, she would not cry.

“I think I love her more now than I did then, if that’s even possible. This time, she’s done more than make me feel as if my heart is broken--she’s made me feel as if it no longer exists. She took it with her, Gus. She took the best part of me with her, and she left the rest of me here, alone.”

Olivia paused and looked around again. She could feel the heat of the sun on her back, another contrast, another way of grounding her. This wasn’t the same as before.

“I hate being angry at her,” she continued, “I know we used to fight all the time, but it’s not the same. We’re different people, of course we argued. The anger I feel now, it’s real and it’s deep, and I don’t think it’s ever going leave me. She left...” Olivia took a deep breath, momentarily closed her eyes. “She left, but it’s here to stay.” She gripped her legs, trying to hold herself together.

“She hurt me, Gus,” she said, hearing the rawness of her own voice. “She hurt me more than even I thought possible, and I knew something about what it would feel like, if she ever went away. I thought I had felt it all before, but I hadn’t even come close.” She started to touch the flowers again, then pulled her hand back.

“I can’t ever do this again, Gus. It’s not fair to my daughter. If Sam hadn’t been here, helping me, I think it would have been so much worse. Emma’s not really old enough to understand all of it, but I see her looking at me, sometimes. She knows that something is wrong. She knows that when Natalia is not here in our lives, something is not right with her world.”

“And as for Sam-” Olivia took a deep breath, “well, you probably understand what it does to me, seeing him think so poorly of her. I told her once that nobody could ever hate her, but he’s doing his best to prove me wrong, and I can’t find the words to stop him. She’s left me, here, alone, without a word in her defense.”

“The worst part about it is that there’s no hope for us now. Even if she comes back, I can’t take the chance that she’ll do it again.” Olivia couldn’t help a quiet sob at the admission, but she managed to remain dry-eyed. “Our relationship, Gus, it was so...” the closest word she could think of seemed so wrong that she didn’t even want to say it out loud. _Pure_. “...whatever it was, she ruined it. I never believed anyone else when they said that they wouldn’t hurt me. But I believed her.”

She took another deep breath. Almost done now. “I loved her, Gus,” she said quietly. “I will always love her. I don’t know how I’ll be able to accept any other type of relationship, now that I’ve known what it can be like, with her in my life. Maybe it’s better, that we never took it to the next level. I’m not sure I would have survived what I’m going through right now.”

Olivia put her hand over her heart, tapping her chest. “She has my heart, and she can keep it, because I don’t think I’ll ever be needing it in that way again. This heart has spent so much time belonging to her that I don’t think it would even recognize another owner--anyone other than her would be rejected. That part of my life, it ended with her. It’s over. We’re over.”

She sat back on her heels, needing to give herself some distance. “I came here today to say good-bye to her, and I came here to say good-bye to you. I hope you’re happy, Gus, wherever you are.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “And I hope she is happy, too.”

Olivia slowly stood up to leave, her eyes still dry. She had done it. She had said good-bye.

And she hadn’t shed a single tear.

***

Sam was waiting for her outside the entrance to the graveyard. He took one look at her face, then looked away. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“Sam,” she said, surprised that she managed to put so much emotion in a word when she felt so utterly drained. “You’ve taken too much time off from work as it is. You need to get back to your life.”

“I’ll be back for the holidays,” he assured her.

“I hope you can be here, but it’s alright if you’re not. You being with me, right now, it’s meant so much to me. I don’t know what I would have done...” she paused, waiting for him to look at her before she said, quietly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulled her into a hug, and for one moment she allowed herself to relax...at least until he started speaking again. “Promise me something.”

She pulled back to eye him warily. “What?”

“You forgive so easily, Liv. Promise me-”

She didn’t even need to wait for him to finish. “I promise.”

He looked surprised that she would agree so readily, not understanding that she had no reason to argue with him.

She had already said her good-byes.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Red**

 _“So what happens...what happens to us?”  
“There is no us.”_

 _“You can marry Frank.”  
“No, I don’t love him. I love you.”_

 **Side 1**

Natalia knew from the moment she stepped outside the car that it had all gone very wrong. She had arrived at the park still flushed with a sense of victory, on the heels of meeting with Father Ray. She had told him she’d figured it out, and he had been pleased for her, regardless of their different interpretations of theology. It had made her feel happy - it had made her feel proud - and she had come here to speak to Olivia never having felt more ready to explain herself.

However, Olivia hadn’t even started across the grass towards her before Natalia’s happy mood had entirely drained away. Olivia hadn’t looked at her like that since the day in Emma’s school, after the wedding, when she had been so distant and cold. Olivia hadn’t spoken to Emma like that - abrupt, commanding - since Phillip’s return to Springfield, when she had been so very afraid.

Something had gone wrong while Natalia was away.

Natalia fought it, the realization that she knew _exactly_ what had happened. _No_.

She felt herself start to tremble, all the old fears coming back again. As Olivia walked across the sidewalk towards the car, Natalia forced herself to take a deep breath. She would tell Olivia about all of it. It would be okay.

Olivia stopped at the curb, the car still separating them. Even though she couldn’t read her expression, Natalia didn’t think she had ever found her so beautiful.

“Olivia.” She smiled tentatively and pressed her hands against her stomach, suddenly needing the reminder. It was an effort not to go right to her. “I missed you so much.” She paused, giving her a chance to respond, but everything about Olivia remained unchanged, her expression impassive.

Natalia took another deep breath, tried again. “Even though you know where I’ve been, I’m sure you have a lot of questions-”

“Know where you’ve been?” Olivia’s voice rose incredulously. “How could you possibly think that?” She seemed to catch herself then, because her next words were perfectly modulated, as controlled as the rest of her body. Natalia noticed she wasn’t letting any part of herself fidget. “I don’t know where you’ve been, I don’t know why you went there, and I have no idea what you’ve been thinking.”

“Didn’t...didn’t Father Ray tell you...”

“That you went to a religious retreat? Yes. The day _after_ you left.”

Natalia winced. She had not expected that. “Olivia, I’m sorry about the delay-”

“You’re sorry about the _delay_?” Olivia asked, and no one listening could have missed the disdain that filled each of her words. “Really, Natalia? You _should_ be sorry for not talking to me. What Father Ray said to me told me absolutely _nothing_.”

“I thought if you knew I was safe, if you knew that I needed some time-”

“Time for what? What was it, exactly, that you couldn’t tell me? I can understand a lot, you know.” She smiled bitterly. “And it’s not as if I haven’t seen you get cold feet before.”

Natalia felt Olivia’s final sentence as if it were a physical blow. Olivia had never criticized her, for Frank--had always shown nothing but patience, understanding.

The moment stretched on as Natalia stared at her, speechless.

Finally, Olivia’s icy demeanor seemed to fail her. Her gaze drifted away from Natalia’s face as she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She looked back at Natalia, and the regret in her expression made Natalia’s breath catch. “It’s one of many things I’d like to take back.”

Natalia steadied herself, finding it easier to act when she knew at least some of what Olivia was thinking. She thought that maybe if she showed Olivia the source of the motivation for her absence, maybe if Olivia knew that it wasn’t simply cold feet regarding the barbecue...

It took effort, but Natalia managed to keep her eyes on Olivia as she stepped out from behind the car. This time, she made herself actually say the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

The look Olivia gave her, as her gaze traveled down her body, was almost dismissive, and Natalia could feel herself curling inwards, fighting echos of the old shame. But she held herself together. Right now, this wasn’t about her. "I found out…" she steadied her voice, "I found out right before the barbecue."

“You’re having Frank’s baby,” Olivia said, the words oddly flat. Natalia recognized that the other woman was having some type of internal struggle, but it was one she had no chance of following, even with the emotions that played across her face. It was a kaleidoscope that turned too quickly - surprise, relief, anger, disappointment, resignation - all gone before Natalia could examine any of them. The last emotion, though, was one she knew. Hurt.

“Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?” Olivia asked her, and Natalia could guess now, where this was all going. She thought that maybe there was still time to fix it, that maybe she could keep Olivia from saying the words.

"Olivia,” she said, a note of desperation in her voice. “I never meant to hurt you. I was scared, and confused. I didn’t know what this meant for us. I just needed time to figure things out, and we’ve waited before-"

"This isn’t about waiting, Natalia,” Olivia said quietly, and Natalia couldn’t hide from the truth she knew would come next. “You _left_ me."

Natalia closed her eyes against the pain of those words. _Please, God, no._

"You had a problem, you got scared, and you _left_ me. You didn't trust in us enough to stay here and work through it. You didn't trust me."

"No, Olivia, it wasn't like that-"

Olivia put her hand up. For a moment she seemed to withdraw into herself as if she’d taken a blow. When she looked back at Natalia, her expression wasn’t kind.

“Don’t,” she said angrily. “Don’t you tell me what it was like. I was here, while you were gone. _Emma_ was here, while you were gone. Do you know what it was like for her? For us? I started to fall apart. I almost sent her away. She...” Olivia trailed off as a black sedan came up the street, slowing as it approached. As they watched, it pulled alongside the curb a short distance behind Natalia’s car.

“Were you expecting him?” Natalia asked, as Phillip got out of the car.

“Yes. He’s here to pick up Emma.” Olivia turned towards the playground, not looking at Natalia as she said, “You should go to the gazebo, I’ll meet you there.”

Natalia couldn’t help looking over in the same direction as Olivia, only to find Emma sitting on the bottom row of the steps to the slide. She had both hands wrapped around one of the side bars of the play structure and was staring hard in their direction. Natalia felt her heart twist as Emma noticed the focus of her own gaze.

“Can I...” She took a quick breath. “Can I at least tell her that I missed her?”

“I need you to _listen_ to me,” Olivia said, voice low, never looking away from her daughter. “I have to take care of her right now.”

Natalia could tell that this wasn’t the time for an argument. Olivia couldn’t focus with all the distractions, and Natalia didn’t want Emma to see her mom come apart.

“I’ll wait for you,” Natalia said softly, before she turned to walk away. She had made it halfway to the gazebo when she heard the commotion behind her.

“But I want to see Natalia!”

Natalia turned back around at the sound of the alarm in that voice.

Emma stood facing Olivia, her small frame tense, a mutinous look on her face as she listened to what her mom had to say. Natalia knew the moment Olivia gave up on the endeavor because she dropped her hands from her daughter’s shoulders and watched as Emma ran off in Natalia’s direction.

Natalia immediately understood the fierce look Olivia sent her way. A warning.

And then she was kneeling in the grass, absorbing the impact of a small body, enveloping Emma in a hug.

“Natalia!” Emma said, her voice muffled against Natalia’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Natalia said, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry-”

“-that your trip took longer than expected,” Olivia finished for her as she walked up to them. “We know.” She touched her daughter’s back. “That’s enough, Em. Go to your dad now.”

Emma pulled away reluctantly and Natalia watched, aching, as she walked away.

“I’m going to say a few words to Phillip,” Olivia told her, and then she was moving towards Phillip, towards Emma, and Natalia was sitting in the grass, alone.

***

When Olivia joined her in the gazebo, Natalia didn’t know what to say. A few weeks ago, Olivia had called her Emma’s other mommy. And now...

It was Olivia who finally broke the silence between them. “You should have called me, before you showed up here,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Emma shouldn’t have to see any of this.”

“Emma seemed happy to see me.”

“Of _course_ she’s happy to see you. She missed you. We both missed you.”

“Olivia, I...” Natalia began, seeing an opening, a place for an explanation. She took a step in Olivia’s direction, only to watch Olivia step even further away.

“No. There is no excuse for what you did to her. You can't bake cookies with her and buy presents for her and be a mother to her and then just disappear on her like that. She needs to know your love is constant. She needs to know you’re here to stay.”

“My love is constant, Olivia. For you, and for her,” Natalia stressed each word, needing her to understand. “I want to give her a little brother or sister. I want to raise this baby with you.”

Olivia looked at her disbelievingly. “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me that you were pregnant, and you want to raise your baby with me?”

“Olivia, this wasn’t about not trusting you. I didn’t trust myself. I knew the day of the barbecue that if I talked to you, I would stay with you, no matter what.”

“And that would have been a bad thing?” Olivia put a hand up before Natalia could answer her. When she next spoke, she sounded unbearably weary. “Are we a sin again, Natalia? Is that what this is about?”

“No, Olivia, we’re not a sin. It was me. It was my sin. I sinned in not trusting in myself. I sinned in hurting you.” For the second time that day, Natalia pushed past her need to cry. She thought she had just seen recognition in Olivia’s eyes. “I was wrong in thinking I deserved punishment rather than what God had given me. In thinking that I didn’t deserve the family I wanted for this baby.” Her voice lowered as she forced herself to finish her confession. “In thinking I didn’t deserve you.” Natalia almost sighed in relief at the expression on Olivia’s face. Olivia understood.

Natalia took a tentative step towards her. “You were right,” she said, “I don’t always have enough faith in myself. I should have trusted myself, and I should have trusted your faith in me.” She made herself stop then, unnerved by Olivia’s response--rather than seeming relieved by her newfound understanding, Olivia looked even more defeated.

“And the next time you don’t trust enough in yourself, Natalia?” she asked quietly. “What happens then?”

Natalia didn’t even have to consider her answer. “I talk to you.”

“Like you did this time?”

“That won’t happen again.”

“How do I know that? How am I'm supposed to trust that the next time something happens, something that scares you, you're not going to leave me again?”

“Because I _love_ you, Olivia. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” The words that had once seemed so difficult came easily to her now, and she could see that Olivia heard the truth in them, the depth of her sincerity.

“Oh God, I love you,” Olivia said as she reached out and touched Natalia's face. Natalia could feel her hands shaking and instinctively reached up to cover them, to calm her. She leaned forward to get closer to her, to press their foreheads together, to tell her-

“But you _left_ me.”

Natalia searched Olivia’s face and saw precisely what she had been trying so hard to avoid, what she hadn’t wanted for her. She had hurt her. She had-

“You _broke_ my heart,” Olivia said, pulling away. She clenched her hands together as she stepped back. “And I won’t let it happen again. Do you understand? I don't trust you.”

Natalia looked at her, uncomprehending. This couldn’t be it; this couldn’t be how they ended. They loved each other. They would do anything for each other.

“Olivia,” she said, her voice breaking, “Olivia, please-”

“I can’t,” Olivia said. “I love you, Natalia, but I _can’t_.”

Natalia could tell by the roughness of her words that Olivia was struggling not to step forward, hold her, comfort her, and the tears that she had been holding back all day finally overwhelmed her. She put a hand to her face as a small sob escaped her, her guilt increasing at Olivia’s obvious anguish. For a moment Olivia stood in front of her, undecided, and then, closing her eyes, she turned and walked away.

Through her tears, Natalia watched her go. She couldn’t breathe. It hurt. It hurt even more than when Gus died, the pain pushing out everything else. This time, God’s will had nothing to do with her loss. She had done this all on her own.

She’d had it all. She’d had her second chance, and she’d lost it--and she had nobody but herself to blame. She had known it. She had known she would fail...

No, she thought, not this again. It was too close to the same line of thinking that had gotten her into trouble before. She moved forward to lean against the railing of the gazebo, concentrating on slowing her breathing until she felt something approaching calm. The ache inside her had only spread, but she could reason with herself again. She could make herself a promise.

This time, she was going to have faith. Faith in God, faith in Olivia--faith in herself.

Even as she closed her eyes, she knew it was too soon to pray. It didn’t matter; God already knew her pain. He already knew her resolve.

In a way, it was Olivia who had given her the confidence to do this. To find in hope in a promise that was sure to be difficult to keep.

***

Natalia walked into the Beacon and headed straight for the elevator. She felt nervous, being in the hotel, but it was Olivia’s workout hour, so she had a good chance of missing her entirely. She supposed her timing couldn’t have been better if she had planned it.

After she had left the park, she had gone back to the farmhouse. She hadn’t been hungry, but she knew she should eat, so she had rummaged through the kitchen cupboards to see if she could find enough food for a late lunch. Her selection was sparse. She knew she needed to go shopping, but when faced with that knowledge while driving home, she had opted to take the fastest route to the comfort of her own space. She figured she could find something in her pantry to tide her over until she could face answering the rest of Springfield, and she had been right.

Canned soup might not be her favorite food item, but it had reminded her of Rafe, of his childhood, and she had found the process of heating it to be very soothing. Somehow, she would make it through all this.

She needed to see Rafe, and Frank, but first she had wanted to see if she could make any progress with Olivia. She didn’t even know how to approach the situation--how could she possibly make up for a mistake so huge?

How could Olivia ever forgive her?

Usually when she wanted to think about forgiveness, she went to the church. However, in this instance, she really didn’t want to talk to Father Ray. She wanted to talk to someone who knew Olivia, who understood about faith, who-

She suddenly realized who she wanted to see. Josh Lewis.

He knew Olivia, he had been a minister--and he thought that Natalia was a good person, something she really needed to believe right now.

At first, she thought she should probably just call him...but she couldn’t imagine having this kind of conversation over the phone. Before she could argue herself out of the idea, she had picked up her purse and headed for her car.

And now, here she was, in one of the hotel’s elevators, admiring the small touches that reminded her of the Beacon’s owner. The pristine maintenance, the attention to detail - when had Olivia added the accent colors? - it all made her miss working here, made her miss spending her days learning about--

The elevator doors opened and she stepped into the hallway. Only now did she wonder how Josh would react when she showed up, unannounced, at his door. She supposed he most likely had to deal with house calls when he was a minister, and the idea that he had seen more than one penitent show up on his doorstep gave her the courage to move forward.

She hadn’t quite reached his room when his door opened, and he stepped out into the hallway...followed by Olivia.

Josh turned to say something to his companion, then quickly turned back towards Natalia as he noticed Olivia’s sudden silence and the direction of her gaze.

“Natalia,” he said, obviously surprised. Natalia could see him evaluating their present situation, and she knew that Olivia had told him, about them. From the look on his face, she thought he might try his hand at some type of explanation, but then he glanced at Olivia and seemed to change his mind. “I’d heard you were back.”

“Yes,” Natalia said, trying to match Olivia’s neutral expression. She didn’t think she succeeded, because Josh allowed himself one more look between the two of them and then took a step back.

“I was just on my way to-”

“At this point, do you really even have to say it?” Olivia asked him, her voice dry, and Natalia saw the way Josh couldn’t hide his relief at the characteristic response.

“Yeah,” he said, drawing the word out. “I’ll tell her you say hello.”

“No, you won’t.”

The familiarity of their conversation made Natalia ache, as did the small smile Olivia managed in response to Josh’s long-suffering expression. She didn’t belong here.

“I’ll see the two of you later,” Josh said, as he shut the door to his room. He glanced one more time at Olivia before heading in the direction of the stairwell, and it hurt Natalia, how much comfort Olivia seemed to find in the attention.

Natalia could hear the echo of Josh’s footsteps on the stairs as she and Olivia studied each other. Natalia wasn’t sure what she had just witnessed, but she knew she didn’t want to discuss it with the events of the afternoon still fresh in her mind. After all the emotion today, she couldn’t get past Olivia’s present countenance--the emptiness of her gaze. Natalia didn’t understand how anyone could push so much away.

“I should go,” she said, starting towards the elevator. She hadn’t gotten very far before she heard movement behind her.

“Natalia, wait.”

Natalia stopped. As she turned and waited for Olivia to catch up to her, she was already dreading it, the explanation, whether it came in the form of excuses, or the truth. She wished she hadn’t come here today.

“I know what you’re doing and I want you to stop,” Olivia said, the words out before she had even reached where Natalia was standing. When she finally came to a halt across from her, the look she gave Natalia was hard, uncompromising. “You don’t get to decide when our relationship stops and when it starts back up again. This doesn’t all revolve around you.”

“Olivia, I-”

“I’ve told you what I want, and you’re not listening to me.” Olivia’s expression softened as Natalia couldn’t hide her pain. “Honey,” she said gently, “it’s not going to happen. I can’t let it. You need to let us go.”

The finality of Olivia’s words combined with their unexpected kindness almost took Natalia apart. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold it all together.

“Olivia,” she said, “I know that I hurt you. But if you just let me-”

Olivia shook her head, her expression hardening again. “You need to not push this,” she said, enunciating each word clearly. “I want you to leave me alone.”

This time, Natalia didn’t watch Olivia walk away, but she waited to leave until she heard her door close, shuddering at the sound it made in the empty hallway.

***

Natalia stared across the banquet hall. She didn’t think that Olivia was trying to punish her, at least not on purpose, but the sight in front of her definitely would have worked, if punishment had been one of Olivia’s goals.

Olivia stood with her back to Natalia, talking to Doris and someone that Natalia assumed must be a friend of Doris, in the same way that Olivia and herself had once almost been _friends_. Natalia had caught glimpses of Olivia over the last few weeks, but this was the first time she seemed in any way happy--laughing and chatting and causing heads to turn.

The sound of Olivia’s laughter paired with that outfit, a low-cut, red dress that flattered her figure to perfection...

Natalia found the effect positively stunning. She had never been so aware of what she had lost. Of what she still wanted.

But, so far, Olivia had held firm. She had nodded at Natalia during the wedding ceremony today, but had made no move to approach her. In her continued effort to respect Olivia’s wishes, Natalia had kept her distance too.

But she wanted to talk to her. She wanted to tell her she liked her hair like that, in a smooth upsweep, as she had told her so many times before. She wanted to ask her about Emma, about Ava, about the Beacon--about everything she was missing in her life right now. She wanted to talk to her, hold her hand, touch her face.

She wanted her, plain and simple. And she still didn’t know how to make it happen.

“You chose to love a very stubborn woman.”

Natalia reluctantly turned away from Olivia to face Josh Lewis. It was the first time she had seen him since that day in the hotel and, though she tried to do better, her greeting to him was not a particularly friendly one.

He seemed to understand, his expression turning contrite. “Natalia,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, at first, or I never would have-”

“Did you comfort her, while I was gone?” she asked.

“Yes.” He held Natalia’s gaze. “She’s my friend.”

“Good.”

She could tell her response had pleased him, because his manner towards her warmed considerably. He glanced over at Olivia, then back at her.

“Could I ask you to do something for me?”

“What?”

“I’m going away for awhile. It’s...” he thought for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s a long story. What I want to ask you...” he looked over at Olivia again. “Will you take care of my friend for me? She needs more care than most people realize.”

“I know,” Natalia said softly, and she knew that was why he had asked her. Because she already knew. “But she won’t let me close to her right now.”

“I still think you’re the woman for the job.”

Natalia would have said more to him, asked him questions about his trip, about Olivia, but she saw Frank walking over in their direction. “I should probably-”

“I understand.” Josh smiled at her as he turned to leave. “It was nice talking to you. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to know each other better.”

She nodded, half of her focus already on Frank. She blushed whenever she saw him now, despite her best efforts to the control the reaction. He had taken the news better than she had expected, especially the part where she still didn’t want to marry him--but the discussions they had in determining how to parent this child had been very detailed. He had wanted to talk about the baby’s conception. It had been a long, awkward conversation, full of specifics she had done her best to forget again. And yet, still, she blushed.

“Hi, Natalia,” Frank said, as he walked up to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing well, Frank, thank you for asking.”

Frank said something after that, and Natalia tried to pay attention, without much success. Olivia had just glanced over in their direction, too briefly for Natalia to even consider making eye contact, before she looked away again. She had already joined back in the conversation of the group around Doris, but she was no longer laughing.

Natalia didn’t remember Olivia being so effectively stoic, before.

She missed being able to read her face.

***

Natalia knew it was wrong, but she wasn’t really looking forward to her sonogram today. Not that she didn’t want to know the health and the sex of her baby - that wasn’t even a question - but to share such an intimate moment with Frank and not Olivia seemed unbearably wrong to her.

Especially since she felt that if she couldn’t convince Olivia to be a part of this baby’s life today, of all days, she didn’t know how she would ever succeed in making them a family. She was finding it more and more difficult, to hope.

She had started to push herself off the couch when Rafe walked into the living room. He was next to her in an instant.

“Here, Ma, let me help you,” he said, taking her hands and gently pulling her upwards. He looked over at the clock. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”

She smiled at him, pleased that he remembered the date. “My appointment’s not for another half-hour.”

“Is Frank going?”

“He’s meeting me there,” she said warily, hoping he would leave it alone. Unlike Olivia, Rafe had forgiven her almost immediately for her absence, on learning the reason for her flight. He had, however, not been as understanding about the conclusions she had reached while she was away.

“Are you two finally going to get married already?”

“It’s only a sonogram, Raphael.”

“And you’re still hoping that _she_ is coming, aren’t you?

Natalia sighed. Rafe wouldn’t even use Olivia’s name anymore, if he had a choice. It was childish and beneath him and she seemed utterly powerless to stop it. She wondered when so many people in her life had become this unyielding.

“Yes,” she said. “I invited Olivia.”

“I’ll never understand you, Ma. You have a chance to give this baby a real family. Frank’s going to be there and he loves you-”

“-enough for the both of us?” Natalia asked him, angrily. She couldn’t believe she was allowing herself to be goaded into another version of this argument. “Because he would have to love me that much, Rafe. I don’t know why you can’t seem to understand this--I don’t love him.”

She felt her anger fade at the look on her son’s face. He looked hurt and lost and alone, feelings she understood all too well after her trip this summer. A selfish part of her wished he respected Frank less. She knew he had taken on part of the guilt for how much she had hurt his mentor.

“What would you have me do, Rafe?” she asked him, and she saw him squirm at the weariness that filled her voice. “Marry Frank even though I don’t love him?”

“But you-”

“What about all those years ago, when you were little, and Gus was gone?” she continued, overriding him. At some point, he had to understand. “Should I have married someone else then? Did you want a father that badly?”

“No, Ma. Of course not. I already told you that. But, Frank, he’s such a good guy-”

“He is a good man,” she agreed. “Which is why I can’t do that to him. Would you want someone to do that to you? Marry you when they didn’t love you?”

“But you loved him enough to get engaged to him.”

“No, Rafe. I was _scared_ enough to get engaged to him. It was wrong.”

“Mom, you’re having his baby!”

“And that’s enough of a reason to get married?” Natalia couldn’t believe what her son was implying. This wasn’t what she had tried to teach him. “You don’t want more than that, for me? For this baby?”

She thought back to right before the wedding, when he had made her so proud. “You told me once, you just wanted me to be happy. Did you only say that because you knew I was going to do what you wanted?” She could see from his stricken look that he hadn’t meant that, at least not consciously, and her voice gentled. ““I know you understand what it’s like, Rafe. I know you shared something once, with Daisy. Don’t you want that for me?”

He stared at her. “Mom, what Daisy and I did was a sin.”

“Your love wasn’t a sin.” A smile touched her lips, as she thought of Olivia. “And neither is mine,” she finished quietly.

“But you _don’t_ love her. She’s still got you confused.”

“She won’t even talk to me, Rafe. How exactly is she keeping me confused? I could walk away from this, right now. She wouldn’t try and stop me.” Natalia laughed softly, feeling that ever-sharp pain. “I wish she would.”

She knew from his reaction that this conversation would not end well. His agitation had been building throughout their discussion, but it had just reached a new level, his hands clenching as he stepped away from her.

“She treats you like this, she _rejects_ you, and you still talk about her...like that?”

The depth of the revulsion in his voice shook her. “Rafe-”

“No, Ma. We’re done. I’m out of here.”

As he stormed out of the house, Natalia realized that she was getting really, really tired of watching people leave.

***

Natalia walked into Company, tired but still standing. It hadn’t been as difficult as she had feared. Frank had been so thoughtful, bringing her crackers, and the news had all been good.

She was going to have a little girl.

Natalia held onto that thought--it was really the only memory she wanted to keep from today. Despite the fact that sonogram had gone well, she felt drained.

Olivia hadn’t been there.

Natalia had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would make an appearance. It had been the only contact she had initiated with Olivia - the one phone call - and she had thought that Olivia might recognize the importance of that, might feel more forgiving after she had seen how completely Natalia had respected her request since that day in the hallway. Natalia had thought about not calling at all, but it wasn’t as if she could keep this baby from coming...

So she had tried. And, though he hadn’t said anything to her, she felt fairly certain that Frank had tried too.

She knew he had seen her looking at the door during her appointment. To his credit, he hadn’t said a word. In fact, he had let her dictate both the tone and the course of the day. He had been quietly happy with the news, and then agreed to her request for him to check on Rafe before he joined her back at the restaurant.

Natalia glanced to her left, pleased to find a free table. Frank had warned her it was busy at Company today. She had just put her purse down when Marina walked up to her, a look of pure irritation on her face.

“Do you have plans to stop taking advantage of my dad anytime soon?”

Natalia briefly closed her eyes. Of all days. “Marina-”

“I know he left today to meet you at your sonogram. Where did you send him now? Back out to look for your son?”

“Yes, he is out looking for Rafe.” Natalia thought about saying more, then decided against it. She’d already had one fight today.

“How can you do that to him? You want him to be there for you, for your kids, and you don’t want him?” When Natalia didn’t respond, Marina glared at her and raised her voice. “My dad’s a good guy. One day some woman is going to come along who will appreciate him. You need to make up your mind if you want him as a father to this baby.”

Natalia looked around, realizing the restaurant had gone silent. Everyone was staring at them, at her--at the evidence of her pregnancy. To complete her mortification, she now saw that Olivia sat at one of the far tables with her usual cup of coffee and muffin, looking at her. Natalia folded her arms over her stomach and took a step back, trying to remove herself from public view. This was even worse than all those years ago, when her parents had insisted she go to church even after she had started showing and everyone had-

For the first time since had gotten back to Springfield, Natalia lost her nerve. "I have to go," she muttered, careful not to look at anyone, especially Olivia, as she turned and fled the room.

***

**Red**

 _“I do need something from you.”  
“Anything--you can ask me anything.”_

 _“I want to know why you care!”  
“I’d die for that kid.”_

 **Side 2**

Olivia felt so angry she could hardly breathe. Before she even considered the fact that she might be making a bad decision, she had started across the room, already committed to a specific course of action. When she reached Marina, she stopped, quietly fuming as she waited for the other woman to notice her.

“Olivia, hey,” Marina said, obviously pulling herself back together. “What can I do-”

“I can tell you what you can _stop_ doing,” Olivia said. “You can stop getting involved in the lives of people who have nothing to do with you.”

“She’s having a baby with my dad. How is that-”

“Frank might be your dad, but I don’t see you yelling at him, do I?” Olivia paused for a moment, unsurprised when she didn’t receive a response. “I didn’t think so. Somehow, everything that happens to Frank, it’s always Natalia’s fault.” She leaned forward into Marina’s space, and pitched her next suggestion low. “I’m telling you now--find a new hobby.”

“You want me to just ignore the fact that she’s using my dad?”

“Natalia offered Frank a role in this child’s life, and he accepted. There’s not more to this story. She’s not his girlfriend, or his wife, and she’s not your new mommy. Stop acting like a spoiled teenager. I’m tired of watching you create drama.”

“You’re tired of...” Marina said disbelievingly. “How does this even involve you?”

“I lost an employee because you felt the need to comment on her choices before.” Olivia smiled grimly as Marina looked away from her. She hadn’t thought the younger woman would like the reminder. “I didn’t appreciate the loss,” she informed her, glad to finally be able to vent about the issue. “Natalia’s got a handle on her life; why don’t you try getting one on yours? Or are you trying to tell me your life is so perfect?”

“Don’t turn this around on me. I have every right not to like her. She broke my dad’s heart and now he has to help raise her child. She never takes any responsibility for the hurt she causes-”

Marina kept talking, but Olivia wasn’t listening anymore. She could only see Natalia, contrite, her expression full of pain--

 _It was me. It was my sin.  
I sinned in not trusting in myself. I sinned in hurting you._

\--and she hated Marina, for her judgement. Marina didn’t know Natalia at all.

“Last I checked,” Olivia said, not caring if she was interrupting, “Natalia’s not forcing Frank to do anything. And I’d be careful talking about responsibility. She certainly didn’t make that baby by herself.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Olivia cringed. She really could have lived without the image that accompanied her final statement. She had been much better lately at thinking before speaking, and she cursed her temper for the lapse. If the look on Marina’s face was any indication, she wasn’t the only one who wished she had stopped much earlier in the conversation.

Olivia decided it was time to wrap this up. “Look,” she said, making sure she had other woman’s full attention. “Natalia has enough to deal with right now, without you adding to her problems. I mean it, Marina,” she warned as she stepped away from her. “Back off.”

When Olivia turned around to face the rest of the restaurant, she almost groaned. She had forgotten about their audience. While she didn’t care who heard what she she’d just had to say, she knew she wasn’t the only one involved...

And Natalia hated gossip.

***

Olivia was sitting at her desk, trying to determine whether or not she should reschedule her second conference call of the day, when she found herself rudely interrupted.

“You’re hurting my mom.”

“I should be hurting my assistant,” Olivia muttered. This was the third time this week someone had simply walked into her office, unannounced.

This was also, by far, the least welcome of the interruptions.

Biting back a sigh, she looked up at Rafe.

“Don’t you even care?” he asked. “Or have you already forgotten about her?”

“Don’t you want her to get back together with Frank?” Olivia countered, already tired of the look of disgust on the adolescent’s face.

“Yes, I want her back with Frank. I hate you. I hate what you’ve done to her.”

Years of practice allowed Olivia to hide any pain his words caused her. “I can’t say I’m surprised about your opinion of me,” she said evenly, “but why don’t you direct your energies towards getting your mother back together with someone who meets with your approval?” She looked down at the paperwork on her desk, all but dismissing him. “It seems like a much more productive use of your time,” she finished, as she picked up her pen.

“I’m leaving next week. I joined the army.”

Olivia nodded without looking back up at him. She had heard about Rafe’s enlistment, from Emma, and it had taken all of her resolve not to go inside the farmhouse with her daughter the last time she had dropped her off there. She had only managed to resist the temptation because she had prepared herself beforehand--she had known from the moment she allowed Emma to see Natalia again that keeping her own distance would be an issue.

It had been three weeks now, since she had started dropping Emma off for weekly visits to the farmhouse. After witnessing the scene between Natalia and Marina at Company, Olivia had been more susceptible to Emma’s desire to spend time with her other mommy and had finally caved to her requests--and with Emma, once Olivia yielded once, she never regained the upper hand.

Natalia had seemed so glad to see them that Olivia couldn’t quite regret the decision, though she hated the idea that she was providing false hope--especially now that Rafe was leaving.

Olivia finally looked back up at him. “Why are you here, Rafe?”

“My mom...” Rafe paused, and for the first time in the conversation Olivia could clearly see an emotion in him other than anger, “...she needs someone to look after her, while I’m gone. But she won’t accept Frank’s help. She lets him go with her to the doctor, do all the baby stuff, but she won’t let him do anything else.”

“That’s her choice,” Olivia said, her words soft, careful. Occasionally she was reminded of all the pain Rafe must have seen, growing up, in his mother’s life. “Your mom is strong, Rafe, stronger than most people realize. She raised you alone, and if that’s what she chooses for this baby-”

“You want her to raise another baby alone?”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about-”

“Are you telling me she wouldn’t accept your help, if you offered it?”

“I’m telling you I think it’s better for both of us if I keep my distance right now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Rafe said angrily. “How can you say that you love her and then just abandon her like that? She does one thing you don’t like and you’re gone?”

Olivia didn’t understand how someone could spend time in prison and still have such a simplistic view of the world. She wondered if he viewed his own crimes in the same shades of black-and-white. It seemed a very limiting way to live.

“The end of our relationship is between your mother and me.”

Rafe’s expression turned ugly, and Olivia braced herself. She wondered how he was going to do in the army, with his lack of self-control.

“Did you get tired of her, or what?” he asked. “Or is it that you only want what you can’t have? Maybe if she’d managed to resist your _attentions_ longer-”

“Stop it, Rafe.” Olivia felt sickened by his implications, not about herself, but about his mother. As if Natalia would have fallen for any of the games Olivia had once loved to play in her relationships. As if she could be so easily manipulated, so easily used. “Don’t say anything now that you’ll regret later.”

Olivia took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself again. She shouldn’t be the one having to tell him things like that. Didn’t he listen to anything his mother said?

“I can’t believe this,” he said, staring at her. “You’re defending her honor now? She’s _hurting_ because of you.”

Olivia felt the last of her patience run out. She pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. She spared one thought for his mother-

 _I’m sorry, Natalia, I held out as long as I could..._

-and then she started speaking to him, her tone deceptively mild. “You think she’s the only one hurting, Rafe? You know, this might be difficult for you to believe, but you weren’t the only person who worried while Natalia was gone. Did you ever think about what her absence did to Emma? I know you hate me, but she’s like a sister to you--did you ever once spare a thought for her?”

She saw the impact her words had on him, as he processed them, and for a full minute they simply stared at each other across her desk, each measuring the other...only to find themselves wanting. Finally, Rafe’s shoulders slumped and Olivia could see that her words had taken the fight out of him--had taken the fight out of both of them.

When he spoke again, he sounded so young that Olivia hurt for him. “I need someone to look after her while I’m gone.” He swallowed and looked away, obviously struggling. After a brief period of silence, he continued, “I’m asking you to do this, Olivia.” Another pause. “Please,” he ground out, turning back to meet her gaze.

Olivia could see how much the words had cost him. She would have done what he requested anyways, she had always planned on helping Natalia from a distance, but now that she had the advantage in this situation, she didn’t plan on wasting it.

“I’ll do what you ask,” she told him. “But there’s a price.”

“What?”

She could hear in the belligerence of his tone that he expected her to ask for something for herself, something selfish, and she almost hated to disappoint him.

“You will write to your mother every week. These letters will not make her sad. If she chooses to write to you, you will not criticize any of her choices.”

He stared at her for a minute, waiting for more. “That’s it?” he finally asked.

“That’s it,” Olivia said. “Believe it or not, even someone like me has redeeming qualities.” She knew she should resist the urge, but she couldn’t help twisting the knife a little. “But you already knew that didn’t you? It’s why you came here.”

“Whatever,” Rafe said, his expression hardening.

Olivia regretted giving into her desire for petty satisfaction, but she didn’t apologize or call him back as he turned away from her and left.

***

Olivia had a chance to make good on her promise to Rafe a few weeks later. She had just learned, through Phillip, that Spaulding Enterprises had let Natalia go in the wake of Alan’s death. Phillip had told her about it today when he picked up Emma for a day-trip, because he had felt badly about it; he wanted to know if Olivia thought Natalia would be amenable to being rehired.

“Let me get back to you,” she said, barely waiting until they left before she called one of Natalia’s other previous employers.

“Blake,” she said, not bothering with small-talk. “Did you know-”

“I already hired her.”

“That was fast.” Olivia had never thought of Blake as particularly fast-moving.

“I’ve needed more help, since we published Coop’s last book.”

“And you knew she needed the work?”

Blake was silent a moment, and Olivia knew that she was weighing how much she wanted to tell her.

“I told you before,” Blake finally said, “she’s my friend.” Her tone became more confident. “Also, I’m a shrewd employer and she’s a hard worker.”

“I’m glad someone else knows it,” Olivia said, and meant it. She had kept her promise, to Rafe, to herself, and now she could-

“The position I’ve given her isn’t permanent though, if you were thinking of hiring anytime soon...” When Olivia didn’t answer, Blake sighed. “If you’re not going to be smart, someone else will take her. And I don’t just mean as a valued employee.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been-” Blake hesitated, then started again, “Frank and I have been seeing each other, recently, if that’s what this is about.”

“You and Frank?”

“Natalia’s fine with it,” Blake assured her. She laughed softly. “To be honest, I think she’s relieved.” She fell silent then, and Olivia knew she was waiting for an answer.

“That’s not what it’s about.”

Blake sighed again, and Olivia could hear the sadness in her voice as she asked the question Olivia knew other people close to her were thinking.

“How long are you going punish her?”

“It’s not about punishment, either.” Olivia wished people would give her more credit. It had been a long time since she had been even close to that vindictive.

“Then what is it about?”

“If she didn’t tell you, I’m not going to,” Olivia said quietly. She didn’t know who Natalia was trying to protect by not confiding in her friend, but she would leave the choice up to her. “I wish her all the happiness in the world, Blake. She just can’t have it with me.”

***

Olivia’s head ached. Days like today made her miss Natalia in every way possible. Her present assistant wasn’t working out. This very morning Olivia had learned that she’d neglected to pass on a call from some of her most important contacts in the mid-west, setting back her negotiations regarding the franchising of the Beacon by at least a week. It was only the latest in a series of mistakes, and Olivia knew the woman wouldn’t last out the month.

Given the nature of her difficulties, it was hardly surprising that Olivia missed Natalia’s presence in her work life. But she didn’t only miss having a reliable assistant at work--she missed her partner. She missed having someone to whom she could complain or confide, depending on the nature of events. She missed their discussions--missed having something to look forward to at the end of a long day.

She had never denied it, not to herself. She missed her.

She looked at the stack of proposals she still needed to read and wished she could pour herself a drink. It would be hours before she was done here.

When Emma came in from the next room, Olivia was slow to look up from her work, and so her daughter’s statement played as a complete non-sequitur.

“I’m ready to go.”

Olivia glanced up then, half-distracted, entirely confused. “What?” She took in Emma’s appearance--the coat, the coin purse, the shoes. “Where are you going?”

“You said you’d take me shopping for my Halloween costume.” Emma practically bounced as she said the words, and Olivia realized that, in her excitement, her daughter had forgotten the day of the week.

“That’s tomorrow night, Em. Remember? We said we’d go after your dance class.”

Emma’s smile dimmed. “But I’m ready now.”

Olivia hated to disappoint her. Emma had been talking non-stop about this shopping trip since they had planned it last week. However, between Sam’s visit and Phillip’s illness, Olivia had missed far too much work over the summer and had been trying to play catch-up for weeks. She knew it had been hard on Emma. They had both gotten used to the extra flexibility her time off had allowed them, and the combination of Olivia returning to work full-time and the start of Emma’s school year had greatly limited the hours they had to spend together.

Still, she had to get work done at some point.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t right now,” she said, reaching out a hand to cup Emma’s face. She smiled at her. “Tomorrow night, okay?

“Fine,” Emma said, jerking away from her and immediately heading for her room. A few seconds later, Olivia heard something, probably her purse, smack into a wall.

For a long time, all Olivia could do was stare after her. Emma had been moodier than usual lately, but Olivia certainly hadn’t seen that coming. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing unhappily. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Due to everything going on in their lives, she’d been letting Emma have her own way much too frequently. She should have expected the consequences.

She wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation as she walked to Emma’s room. Hiding her reluctance, she moved to stand in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame.

“That’s some attitude, Jellybean,” she said, studying her daughter. “Want to tell me what it’s all about?” Her words sounded mild enough, but both of them were well-aware that the question wasn’t merely a request--she wanted an answer.

Emma glanced up at her then looked back down at her bedspread, stubborn in her continuing silence. Olivia gave her almost a full minute before she accepted that this wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

She felt her unhappiness grow. She rarely had to punish Emma and she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less tonight, but Emma was really pushing her right now. She decided to give her one last warning.

“Emma,” she said, steeling herself. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“I wanted to go tonight,” Emma said sullenly, still not looking at her.

Olivia studied her carefully. If that was really the extent of the reason for this tantrum, then she must have been spoiling Emma worse than she had realized. But it really wasn’t like Emma to not understand--

“Natalia would take me.”

Olivia felt a shudder run through her body at the words, but she managed to push away her feelings by focusing on her daughter’s intent. Olivia didn’t have much experience with co-parenting, but she understood this type of game far too well.

“Look at me, Emma.” She waited until her daughter complied. “I think that Natalia would ask me, before she took you anywhere. And the answer I gave you tonight would be the same, even if she was here.”

“But she’s not,” Emma said, her voice suddenly small. For a moment she seemed uncertain about continuing, as if she’d just become aware they were in the middle of a fight, then she asked, “Why don’t you like her anymore?”

Olivia could tell that it was a question that had been bothering her for awhile, and she cursed herself for not having a better response on hand.

“I like Natalia, Em,” she said, knowing it would not be a sufficient answer.

Emma shook her head. “No, you don’t. You never come inside with us.” She eyed her mom accusingly. “And she gets sad when I talk about you.”

Once again, Olivia wished she had a better explanation to fall back on then the one she had been using now for almost a year. “It’s not like that. It's...complicated.”

“You always say that! It’s not fair. When you were mad at Dad, I couldn’t see him. Now you’re mad at Natalia and I can’t see her.”

Olivia couldn’t help feeling a bleak sort of pride that her daughter understood at least part of the similarity between the two relationships. She didn’t remember why she and Natalia had been so scared to sit down and tell her about them.

“Em-”

“Why can't you be nice to her?” Emma said, glaring at her. “She came back and she wants me there. In a _real_ home. But you won’t let her.”

It took every ounce of Olivia’s self-control to not show the pain those words caused her. “You visit Natalia in the farmhouse every week,” she finally managed.

“It’s not enough!”

It was the same complaint, accompanied by the same tears, that Olivia had seen from her daughter before--and she didn’t know how to fix it now any better than she had known how to fix it then. Her legs trembled as she walked over to the bed, sat beside Emma and pulled her close. For a moment Emma pushed her away again, and then she relaxed against her, pressing her face against her mom’s shirt.

Olivia simply held her, not wanting to make any promises out loud that she wasn’t absolutely sure she could keep. But as she stroked her daughter’s hair, she knew they couldn’t remain in this state forever--she needed to define Natalia’s role in their lives. She looked down at the top of Emma’s head, then closed her eyes, her thoughts a whispered oath--

 _It's okay, Em. It's okay. We'll work something out for you, I promise._

***

The Thanksgiving decorations were out at Towers when Doris spotted Olivia at the bar and asked her if she wanted to share a table for dinner. Olivia immediately accepted the invitation; she hadn’t really been enjoying drinking alone.

They started the meal by speaking in generalities, their efforts to catch-up leading to pleasant, if banal, conversation. Olivia found herself relaxing, more than ready for an evening that promised to be nothing more than a pleasant distraction from the problems in her life. Much to her chagrin, her respite didn’t even last through their appetizers. Between her work schedule and her continued efforts to spend more time with Emma, it had been a long time since she had been out like this, and the drinks affected her more quickly than she had anticipated. Two rounds with Doris, and she had started discussing more of her personal problems than she had originally planned--and though she knew she would probably regret sharing later, she couldn’t seem to stop herself...

“...she’s hurting, and I don’t know what to do. She loves Natalia. How do I take someone else out of her life?” Olivia shook her head. “I can’t. But I also can’t explain the distance between us in a way she understands.”

Doris pushed some salad around her plate, her look contemplative. After a moment, her mouth curved upwards in a small smile. “I realize how this sounds, coming from me,” she said, “but I think you need to tell her the truth. If you and Natalia really aren’t getting back together, your daughter should know that.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow at her. “Do as I say, not as I do?”

“I’m trying to give you the benefit of my experience. How much longer can you mislead her before she realizes one day that she’s been lied to?”

“You’re right...” Olivia trailed off. It seemed so final, when Doris put it that way.

Telling Emma about them during the summer had seemed an act that would make the existence of her and Natalia’s relationship irreversible. Telling Emma about them now would make the end of their relationship no less so.

“This is not how I wanted her to find out about us,” Olivia murmured as she took a large sip of her drink.

“Look, Olivia,” Doris said, “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life-”

Olivia almost choked on her martini. “Yes, you do.”

Doris raised her glass to Olivia in acknowledgement of the hit. “Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted. “But I can’t help pointing out that last spring you wanted Natalia so badly that I tried to stop a wedding for you-”

“Did I ever thank you for that?”

“No.”

“I guess dinner’s on me then.” Olivia suddenly noticed that her glass was empty and frowned. “My drink’s gone.”

Doris laughed as she motioned to the bartender for another round. “I should invite you out more often.” She ate a few bites of her salad and waited until their drinks came before continuing, “Olivia, you made me go ahead with the ceremony because you loved her so much that you didn’t care about anything else as long as she was happy...and I don’t think any of that has gone away. Am I wrong?”

“No,” Olivia said softly, “you’re not wrong.”

“In some ways it would be easier for both of you now. You have fewer problems-”

“Fewer problems?”

“Well, secrecy’s not really an issue these days. Neither of you seems worried about what other people think anymore, and you’re out to practically the whole town.”

“We are?”

“Have you seen Natalia lately whenever she’s in a room with you? She’s not exactly subtle about it. And you haven’t dated anyone in months-”

“My reputation precedes me,” Olivia said, tipping back her drink.

“People were bound to put two-and-two together.”

“It took them long enough.”

“I know she hurt you...” Doris reflected for a moment, her expression softening in a way that made Olivia stare at her closely to be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “I still have the ice-cream in my freezer at work to prove it-”

“I’d have thought you would have finished that by now.”

“-but can you really not get past this?”

Doris posed the question so simply - so sincerely - that for the first time since Natalia’s return, Olivia found herself considering her decision.

Could she get past Natalia leaving? She understood, now, why it had happened. For similar reasons, she, herself, had caused others pain.

But knowing Natalia’s reasons didn’t change the facts. She had hurt them.

 _A glass and a bottle. A little girl, a plate of cookies, a book._

Understanding her motivations didn’t change the consequences. She had left them.

 _White flowers on an empty grave._

And Olivia still didn’t trust her not to do it again.

Her decision made, she turned back to Doris. “No,” she said, “I can’t get past it.”

“It's your choice, Olivia,” Doris said, her disappointment obvious. “But whatever you do, trust me on this. You need to talk to your daughter.”

***

It was early December when she got the call.

Olivia frowned when she recognized the number. She couldn’t remember the last time he had contacted her. Already feeling concerned, she took the call.

“Frank?”

“Olivia?” He sounded relieved. “I was afraid you wouldn’t answer. I know that you-”

She cut him off. “What’s wrong with Natalia?”

“How...?” he started, then seemed to catch himself. “I should start by saying that she’s going to be okay. She went in for one of her final check-ups this morning and they discovered she had high blood pressure. So they ran some more tests...”

“And...?” Olivia said impatiently.

“She’s preeclamptic. It’s a condition-”

“I know.” Or at least she knew the important part--they would need to get the baby out of her, right now. “Are you at Cedars?”

“Yes. They’re getting her ready for a c-section.” He paused and even over the phone, Olivia could hear his hesitation. “Olivia, she doesn’t know I’m calling you-”

“Don’t worry about it, Frank. I’ll be right there.”

***

Olivia listened to Blake talking soothingly to Frank and felt thankful for her presence. She didn’t think she had the patience to keep Frank calm right now.

She had just finished preparing herself. She had been uncertain, about watching the procedure, but Frank had informed her of how many times Natalia had told him that she wanted her there, for the birth.

Olivia would have preferred hearing the words from Natalia herself, but for reasons Olivia hadn’t quite internalized, Natalia had needed a general rather than a regional anesthetic. By the time Olivia had gotten to the hospital, she’d lost any chance of speaking to her before the baby arrived.

She’d already been worried, driving over, but after hearing about the anesthetic and the increased complications...

It didn’t matter that this wasn’t an uncommon procedure.

It didn’t matter that they had caught the problem early enough that both Natalia and her baby would almost certainly be fine.

Olivia was terrified. Terrified, and more than a little bit angry.

Scowling, she glanced upwards. “Don’t even think about it,” she muttered as she followed Frank into Natalia’s hospital room.

***

Olivia thought she should probably go. The drugs they had given Natalia would wear off soon, and Olivia wasn’t sure what she would say, about her presence here, if Natalia saw her after she woke up.

Olivia knew that eventually Natalia would learn she had been here today - it was inevitable - but if the knowledge came from someone else, someone like Frank, Natalia might view Olivia’s presence today as less significant. As the act of someone who loved her and felt responsible for her well-being, but nothing more. That’s how Olivia could try to sell it, later; she had been fulfilling an obligation.

And she thought she could do it. She thought she could convince her.

But only if Natalia didn’t see her right now.

She shifted in her chair, but made no move to stand. She really should go...but she couldn’t seem to find the strength to leave. She hadn’t been this close to Natalia in months--close enough to notice the rhythm of her breathing, the tangles in her hair. The latter made Olivia want to find a brush, or at the very least run her fingers through the knots, combing them, smoothing them...

Tentatively, Olivia reached a hand out to brush some hair off Natalia’s cheek, only to pull it back again as Natalia finally stirred and opened her eyes.

For a few seconds, Natalia seemed to have trouble focusing. Olivia could tell when she finally noticed her presence, because the other woman’s expression became troubled and she looked down, fidgeting with her IV.

“Hey,” Olivia said, leaning forward to get her attention. “It’s okay.” She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “The drugs aren’t that strong. I’m here.”

“I know.” Natalia looked back up at her again. “But I can’t concentrate on you with whatever it is they’re giving me. I-” Natalia’s hand twitched against her side and her expression grew more concerned. “Is she-”

“Your daughter’s fine,” Olivia said, her tone soothing. She smiled at Natalia, still touched by her wonder from earlier in the day. She had seen the birth of Natalia’s child. They had put Natalia’s daughter in her arms. “She’s so beautiful.”

“You’ve already seen her?”

“I’ve seen her.” Olivia’s voice softened with the memory. “And I’ve held her.” Her smile became uncertain. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Natalia studied Olivia for a moment, and when she spoke Olivia could almost see the picture she had formed in her mind. “I would have loved to have seen that.” As Natalia finished her sentence, she shifted positions, and though she tried to hide it, Olivia saw her wince.

“Are you alright?” Olivia asked. “Should I get someone-”

Natalia shook her head. “I’m fine.” Suddenly, she smiled, and the expression seemed to erase all her exhaustion; she positively glowed. “You say she’s beautiful?”

Giving up on pretenses, Olivia just looked at her. “Yes,” she said finally. “Beautiful.”

Natalia’s face flushed at the compliment and for a moment she seemed overcome by shyness, glancing down at the bed. The movement caused a curtain of hair to fall across her face and, without thinking, Olivia reached out to brush it back, to uncover her expression. At the last moment, she caught herself. She started to draw her hand back but, before she could follow through, Natalia captured her hand in one of her own.

It was their first real contact since the day Natalia returned, and Olivia’s breath caught at the strength of it; she could feel Natalia’s fingers, tense against her own. She watched as Natalia looked back up at her, searching her face. They stayed like that, neither of them pulling away, until Olivia felt herself yield.

She relaxed her grip on Natalia’s hand and drew it to her mouth, gently kissing her fingers. Then, for one brief moment, she held their hands against her cheek.

Olivia didn’t look away from Natalia until she had carefully laid her hand back on the bed; only then did she close her eyes and acknowledge the loss.

She heard Natalia shift on the bed. “Olivia-”

“Natalia, you’re awake!”

Olivia opened her eyes in time to see Frank walk over to Natalia’s bedside, a huge smile on his face. A number of Coopers followed him into the room, and Olivia quietly got up and moved away from the bed to allow everyone some space.

“I’ll have them bring Francesca,” Frank told Natalia, and then he was gone again, and Olivia could see Natalia searching her out, looking for her opinion--

When Natalia caught her gaze, Olivia nodded, offering her a small smile. The minute she had heard the baby’s name, she knew it had been Natalia’s idea--a way of indicating to Frank that he would always have a place in this baby’s life.

Olivia allowed herself to stay long enough to see Natalia hold her daughter. It was an image she wanted to take with her, beautiful, almost sacrilegious--her personal iconography of mother and child.

She watched until it became too painful and then quickly slipped out the door.

***


	5. Chapter 5

**Green**

 _“I don’t want to fight. Not at Christmas.”  
“Neither to do I. Emma needs this holiday.”  
“So do you.”  
“So do you.”_

 **Side 1**

 

“Mommy, are we there yet?”

Despite her nerves, Olivia smiled. She hadn’t heard Emma ask that question in a very long time. “Jellybean, you know the way to Natalia’s as well I do.”

“I know...” Emma shifted impatiently in her seat. “But I want to see the baby!”

It was hardly a surprising announcement, but upon hearing it, Olivia felt all of her uncertainty resurface. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, and she concentrated on driving, so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge that she still didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t made any decisions since the hospital.

Much to Emma’s displeasure, Olivia had made her wait two weeks after Francesca’s birth before allowing her to visit Natalia. She had used the excuse that Natalia needed time to recover from her surgery, but she feared Emma had sensed the lie buried in her half-truth. Her daughter had not been very happy, and Olivia had been preemptive in hiding her loose change.

But Emma had listened, her adherence to the rule part of a more general pattern of behavior that Olivia had observed in her since their fight. After that night, she’d been calmer, more obedient, less inclined to argue against decisions she didn’t like. She’d also been slightly clingy, in a way that defied all of Olivia’s reassurances. It made Olivia even more aware of what she had always known--Emma had watched too many people leave their lives.

Olivia wished she could be more pleased, today, by Emma’s exuberance. But in the extra time she had given herself, before this visit, she hadn’t reached any conclusions. She still didn’t know how to explain the rift between her and Natalia to her daughter. She also didn’t know how she was going to keep seeing Natalia, weekly, after she had let down her guard and showed her how much she still loved her, how much their separation still caused her pain.

And then there were the more immediate difficulties...

When Olivia pulled into Natalia’s driveway, Emma barely waited for the car to stop before she opened her door; she was half-way to the front porch before Olivia had even removed her seatbelt. By the time Olivia joined her on the porch, Emma had already knocked and was eyeing the door impatiently. For a moment she seemed distracted by her mom’s presence, frowning up at her, but then the door opened and Natalia was standing in front of them.

“Natalia!” Emma started forward towards her, but Olivia stopped her daughter with a touch to the arm.

“Remember what we talked about, Em,” she warned her. “Gently.”

Emma nodded and then stepped forward to carefully wrap her arms around Natalia’s waist. She looked up at her other mommy. “Can I see her now?”

Olivia winced at the abbreviated greeting--she recognized that type of single focus. It seemed they both still needed to work on a certain subset of their social skills.

Unsurprisingly, Natalia didn’t seem to mind at all. “Oh course you can, honey,” she said, smiling down at her. She stroked a hand through Emma’s hair and seemed ready to lead her inside...until she realized that Olivia hadn’t moved from her position in front of them. For a second Natalia’s smile faltered, then she looked back down at Emma. “Go take off your coat and put down your backpack. I’ll be there in a minute, and we’ll go upstairs together, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma said, happy, excited, and gone in a second, leaving the two women alone on the porch.

Natalia looked at Olivia, not saying a word.

Olivia shifted her weight nervously. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Olivia. Thank you for asking.”

Olivia could see Natalia’s surprise when she continued to hesitate to leave, and she found herself the subject of a searching look similar to the one she had received from her in the hospital. She felt a flicker of embarrassment when Natalia’s face cleared in sudden understanding. She hated being so easily read.

Natalia held her gaze. “Do you want to come inside?” she asked softly, and Olivia realized that both of them already knew her answer.

Olivia hesitated again, then nodded, not quite able to look at her as she moved towards the entrance to the farmhouse. She noticed how Natalia’s fingers gripped the door as she passed her, and then she was inside the living room and unable to fight the feelings that almost overwhelmed her.

No matter how long she’d been away, it still felt like home.

***

The three of them approached the crib, Olivia guiding Emma to stand between herself and Natalia. She watched as her daughter grasped the dark oak railing of the crib and looked down at the baby inside.

Emma’s head tilted to the side as she studied Francesca, a look of intense concentration stealing over features. Olivia had thought she would be like this and hadn’t wanted to miss it. Hadn’t wanted to miss seeing Emma meet Natalia’s daughter, miss seeing the gravity of her expression, her perfect absorption...

Emma giggled and looked up at Natalia. “You gave her a hat!”

Olivia smiled; she supposed it was a valid distraction. The snowflakes on the tiny cap had been knit with great attention to detail, each of the crystalline structures cunningly unique, and Olivia wondered how long it had taken Natalia to finish it.

“It helps keep her warm,” Natalia informed Emma, and Olivia could sense her struggling not to look past Emma to share the moment, share her amusement.

Emma looked back down into the crib. “Can I hold her?”

When Natalia hesitated, Olivia stepped into the conversation. “She’s sleeping right now, Em,” she said. “Why don’t we wait to move her until she wakes up-”

“-it’ll only be a little while,” Natalia continued for her.

As they finished speaking, Emma glanced between them, and then she returned her attention to the crib, leaning forward, clearly fascinated, as Francesca yawned.

Olivia found herself looking at Natalia over Emma’s head, only to find Natalia looking back at her. For a moment, they studied each other, before Olivia turned away and resumed her study of her daughter.

***

They were back downstairs again, and Olivia was getting ready to leave, when Emma finally noticed something other than her longing to hold the baby.

“Natalia,” she said, frowning as she looked around the living room. “You don’t have any decorations. I thought you liked them.”

“It’s early yet, Em-” Olivia started, but Emma shook her head, interrupting her.

“We already have decorations, at the hotel.”

Natalia tried to smile, but Olivia could see the effort in it. “I do like decorations, Emma. I haven’t really had time yet, this year, that’s all.”

“But there’s only a week left to Christmas.”

Olivia had been watching Natalia carefully during the conversation, concerned about her relative indifference to a holiday she loved so much. It hadn’t taken her long to figure it out, though for Natalia’s sake, she hoped she was wrong.

“Is Rafe coming home for Christmas?” Olivia asked.

“No. He can’t make it.”

Olivia knew when Emma looked between her and Natalia in the silence that followed Natalia’s announcement, that there would be trouble. She could see the idea taking shape in Emma’s mind, her expression becoming so earnest, so full of _hope_ , that it made Olivia ache.

“Mom,” Emma said, her voice filled with excitement, “can we-”

“Emma,” Natalia said. “I made you sugar cookies for your snack. They’re on the kitchen table. You should go eat them, now, before it gets too close to dinner.”

“But-”

“Jellybean.” Olivia waited until Emma looked at her before she said, firmly, “You should do what Natalia says.”

Emma knew better than to argue with her, when she talked like that, but Olivia could see the rebellious look her daughter couldn’t quite suppress as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Olivia waited until she heard a chair scrape back in the kitchen before she looked over at Natalia. She noted how the other woman didn’t hesitate to meet her gaze.

“We could do this for her,” Natalia said. She didn’t need to clarify her statement further. After all, they’d already done it before.

They could give Emma Christmas again.

Olivia didn’t know what to do. Refusing meant disappointing Emma--meant leaving Natalia alone, on Christmas. And yet...

“I don’t think it’s fair to give her that kind of hope,” Olivia said, voicing the greatest of her worries. “She’s confused enough, as it is, without us-”

“-showing her that we still care about each other? Can it really be any worse than what we’re doing to her right now?”

Olivia looked away. She should have known Natalia would be aware of Emma’s distress regarding their relationship. “She thinks I don’t like you.”

“Well, Olivia, you usually won’t even talk to me.” When Olivia turned back towards her, surprised, Natalia gentled her tone. “We used to be a family--we’re _still_ a family. We still love each other. Can’t we at least try to be friends?”

At night, when Olivia closed her eyes, she could feel the soft press of Natalia’s fingers against her cheek. “I don’t think I can be your friend.”

“Olivia,” Natalia said with some asperity, “you’re friends with _Phillip_.”

Olivia had to admit that as arguments went, it was fairly compelling. She forced herself to take a step back from her emotions and examine the issue. _Friendship_.

She couldn’t see removing Natalia from Emma’s life, which meant it would be easier for everyone involved if they managed - if she herself managed - to behave more amicably. Olivia had seen how much easier it had been for Emma once she and Phillip had started getting along.

And when the time came for her to tell Emma the truth about Natalia and herself, about the end of their relationship, it would sound more believable to say that they still loved each other, if Emma had evidence of that fact. In some ways that evidence would make the follow up questions more difficult - _if you love her, why can’t we all live together?_ \- but at least Olivia would have the opportunity to show Emma the way in which a mature, adult relationship should come to an end. She could show Emma how families should love each other.

“Friends,” Olivia said at last, the word still uncertain. “We can try that.”

Natalia nodded, almost encouragingly. “And Christmas...?”

“I don’t know...”

“I don’t need to know now,” Natalia said, after a pause. As Olivia took a step back, relieved, she continued, “But I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Olivia glanced towards the kitchen. “Will you be able to...?”

“She’s not that difficult,” Natalia said. “But you...you just let me know.”

***

When Olivia came back to pick up Emma, she made sure to catch Natalia’s gaze. A simple nod, and they both knew they were spending Christmas together.

Olivia hadn’t really been certain what type of reaction her decision would elicit from Natalia, and even now she couldn’t read anything from her expression other than quiet acceptance of the situation. Briefly, Olivia wondered what Natalia had seen in her own face, when she had given her decision.

However, she was quickly distracted by her new problem. Olivia knew Emma would be thrilled by the news, but she needed to manage her reaction. She didn’t want her too excited, too ready to view this as a step towards moving back into the farmhouse. She needed Emma to know that it wouldn’t be like last year.

They were halfway back to the hotel before Olivia decided not wait anymore.

“Em, how would you like to spend Christmas at Natalia’s?”

“Really?” Emma seemed almost speechless in her excitement, and then her expression turned suspicious. “With you too?”

“Yes. You and me, we’ll keep her company. With Rafe away, I think she’d be lonely without us there with her.” Olivia decided that it wasn’t too soon to start with the warnings. “This doesn’t mean we’re moving back into the farmhouse-”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

Emma nodded. “We’re helping Natalia.”

Sometimes, Olivia wondered what she had done to deserve her daughter. “Yes, Em, that’s right. We’re helping Natalia.”

Emma looked up at her happily. “Can I get her a present?”

Olivia had to work to keep her dismay from showing on her face. Emma had just made her aware of a new complication in her life--one that she really could have lived without.

***

Olivia had spent a few days purposefully avoiding her current activity, but she had known when she woke up this morning that it couldn’t be avoided any longer. With Emma at Natalia’s, helping her decorate, Olivia had more than enough time to go shopping, and more than one gift that still needed to be purchased.

A few hours downtown, and she had bought all of the gifts she needed save one. It wasn’t proving any less difficult than she had feared, finding Natalia a gift. Everything she looked at seemed too personal, reminding her of moments in their shared history - a necklace, a picture frame, a cream-colored dress - and yet nothing seemed personal enough.

She hated the idea of buying Natalia a pedestrian gift. She had always valued the time and effort she used to spend in trying to find her the ideal present, knowing the look she would receive on its delivery. That small, delighted, secretive smile--the one that made her feel as if they were sharing a confidence all their own, intimate, unique...

She looked at the sweater in her hands. She had picked it up now three times. She knew the dark blue color would be flattering on Natalia. It would compliment her skin tone, and its simple pattern wouldn’t distract from her appearance, would allow those looking at her to focus on her natural beauty, her hair, her eyes...

Olivia bought the sweater.

She was exiting the store when she ran into Phillip. He didn’t even see her at first; he seemed distracted, about as pleased to be out shopping as Olivia herself. Olivia hoped he wasn’t in too much of a hurry--she had just realized that she really needed to talk to him.

“Phillip,” she said, getting his attention.

He looked over at her, and she saw him try to focus. “Olivia,” he said, “hi.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to call you. I don’t think we’ll be able to make it by the mansion on Christmas. I’ll still bring Emma by to visit, though, possibly the day after.” She felt relieved to see that he didn’t look offended, merely curious. “We’re spending Christmas at Natalia’s place,” she informed him.

“At Natalia’s.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Really?”

“Oh, don’t start with me-”

“Hey, I think it’s a great idea. Emma loves her. _You_ love her. So why wouldn’t you spend the day there?” He paused and studied her again. “It’s remarkably mature of you.” That comment earned him a dirty look, but much to her annoyance he responded with a smile. “If I could give you one piece of advice-”

Olivia had already heard enough. “Phillip,” she said sweetly, “remember what happened the last time we got too involved in each other’s lives?”

“I take your point,” he said, the concession accompanied by a small nod. “Merry Christmas, Olivia.”

“Merry Christmas, Phillip,” Olivia said, and they each went their separate ways.

***

On Christmas Eve, Olivia walked into Company. She scanned the room for Buzz and found him busing tables near the front counter. Idly, she wondered if he would ever hire enough help to be able to act like an actual owner of the place.

When he saw her, he stopped what he was doing and put down the tub on the counter. “Olivia, Merry Christmas. Are you here to pick up your order?”

She moved to stand across from him. “Yes. Though it’s going to be interesting, carrying it all out of here.”

“If you want, I can help you. You’re quickly becoming my best customer.”

“Don’t get used to it. Last week’s pick-up was for a holiday event at the Beacon.”

“And this week’s? Don’t tell me you’re working on Christmas Eve.”

She looked pointedly at the tub in front of him, and at where he was standing. “You’re going to lecture me about my work habits?”

“Me? Lecture you?” He smiled. “Never.”

Olivia laughed. “With a lie like that, I’d say someone besides me is looking to get coal in their stocking.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, before Olivia sobered. “No,” she said, “this week, it’s personal--but it’s not all for me. Ava’s coming into town today for Christmas. Sam too.” She couldn’t name all the emotions she had felt in the last several days, but she knew that several of them could be heard in her voice. Excitement. Trepidation. “We’re going to spend tomorrow at Natalia’s.”

“Oh, right. Frank’s stopping by there in the afternoon and he said he expected to see you.” He paused, his expression softening. “Does this mean...?”

“No. This holiday is for Emma.”

“I see.” He offered her a measured look and then headed back towards the kitchen. It took him more than one trip to carry out all five of her bags of food and put them on the counter. When he was finished, he watched as she peered into them, cataloguing their contents.

“She must really love you,” he said quietly, his words causing Olivia to look up, startled, from her examination of the bags. She frowned at him, not entirely pleased by the direction of the conversation, not certain what she wanted to say. Before she could figure it out, he continued, “Don’t you think it’s hard for her, having you there?”

“It’s difficult for both of us.”

“Yeah, but you’re getting what you want...” This time, when he paused, he let the silence drag out a second or two longer than seemed natural, and Olivia knew he was letting her know that he was on to her, that he knew what she was hiding. “Christmas for your daughter. What’s Natalia getting?”

“Natalia loves Emma. She wants her to be happy-”

“You know, I’d always taken you for a smart woman, Olivia. You can’t really think Natalia’s only doing this for Emma?” He made a sound of exasperation when Olivia refused to answer him, and started helping her pick up her bags.

He didn’t say anything else until they had put everything into her car, and then, as she was opening her door, she felt his hand touch her shoulder.

“Emma’s not the only person she wants to be happy,” he told her, his voice gentle.

Before Olivia could respond to his declaration, he had already walked away.

***

“Of course I don’t mind spending Christmas there,” Ava said. “I like Natalia.”

Olivia felt relief at her easy acceptance of the situation. Ava’s flight had only arrived two hours ago, and though they had gone straight from the airport to the hotel, it didn’t leave them much time to catch-up before Sam arrived and they had to leave for their dinner reservation.

Olivia had told Ava about their plans as soon as Emma had run to her room to change for dinner, not wanting to miss the chance to discuss the issue with her older daughter alone. She hadn’t thought that Ava would have a problem with the idea of spending time at Natalia’s, but if she did, Olivia had wanted to make sure that her concerns didn’t get overlooked in what was sure to be a bigger reaction from Sam.

Olivia sat down next to Ava on the bed. “If only I thought Sam would be as pleased,” she said ruefully.

“You haven’t told him?” At Olivia’s guilty look, Ava shook her head. “Oh, Mom...”

“Emma needs this.”

“Yeah? Has it been that bad for her?”

Olivia could only nod, but Ava seemed to understand, her gaze filling with concern. “My poor little sister,” she said unhappily. As she considered the problem, Olivia watched her, loving the transparency of her emotions, the way her face lit up when she finally said, “You know, you should send her out to visit me sometime. It might help-”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Before Olivia could get up to answer it, Emma was already there.

“Uncle Sam!” she said as she opened the door.

“Hey there, stranger,” Sam said, swinging her up into his arms. Still holding her, he walked over to greet Ava and Olivia, the latter of whom gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s good to see you, sweetie,” she said.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said, searching her face.

He apparently liked what he saw, because his look was teasing as he turned back to Emma. She had been attempting to peer over his shoulder into the bag of gifts he had dropped at his feet, and now looked alarmed at being caught out. She glanced towards her mom, but Sam’s grin got her attention.

“Did you get me a present?” he asked her conspiratorially.

Emma looked up at him and laughed. “Yes, but you’re not supposed to ask!”

“Oh. My mistake then. Am I allowed to tell you I got you one?” When she nodded, he put her down next to the bag. “Then I guess you’ll have to find it and open-”

“Not until tomorrow, Em.” Olivia sent a reproachful look in Sam’s direction. “You know, I really don’t need her learning your bad habits.”

“Just because I used to know where you hid everything-”

“I’ll put them with the other ones,” Emma said, accepting Ava’s help to move Sam’s bag to join all the others lined up next to the door.

Sam looked over at the collection, then turned back to Olivia. “What’s all this?”

Only now did Olivia wish she had called him ahead of time. “We’re not spending tomorrow here at the hotel, Sam. We’re-”

“We’re spending Christmas at Natalia’s!” Emma said excitedly.

“We’re spending Christmas _where_?” Sam asked, staring at Olivia.

“At Natalia’s,” Emma said. “I helped her decorate.”

Olivia glanced over at Ava, who immediately took the hint. “Hey, Emma,” she said. “We need to get your coat on before we can go out to dinner. Do you want to show me where it is?”

Sam didn’t look away from Olivia as her daughters left the room. The minute they heard Emma’s door close, he shook his head. “Oh, Liv, don’t tell me...”

“It’s just for Christmas.”

“Didn’t you go through your self-destructive phase years ago?”

“Sam, Emma needs this holiday,” Olivia said, echoing her earlier words to Ava. “I need you to not fight me on this.” She watched as he studied her, saw her resolve.

“Alright,” he said, “if this is what you think she needs.”

“Thank you.” Olivia walked forward to hug him, relaxing as he hugged her back. She felt so fortunate to have him here; she would need his support tomorrow. She pulled back to look at him. “You’ll come with us...?”

He seemed hurt by her uncertainty. “Sis, I’ll follow you anywhere. You know that. I just wish, sometimes, you’d choose your direction with more care.”

“I couldn’t tell her no, Sam, okay?”

“Which one of them?” he muttered.

Olivia might have answered him, but Ava and Emma were walking back into the room, and it was time to leave for their dinner.

***

**Green**

 _“I want you to have everything that you deserve.”  
“I can’t. I can’t have the one thing I want.”_

 _“What is that?”  
“It’s a present. For you.”_

 **Side 2**

“There you go, sweetheart,” Natalia said, shifting Francesca so that she could nurse more easily. They were still adjusting to each other, the two of them. Francesca was much fussier when feeding than Rafe had been, but slowly Natalia had been learning how to combat her tendency to tense up and turn away. Little techniques - hand placement, head position, body angles - had removed most of the frustration from the activity, giving them both these periods of fulfillment, this feeling of calm.

Natalia brushed some hair back from her face and glanced out the window. She couldn’t see much at the moment; it was dark yet, earlier than Francesca’s usual morning feeding time, but Natalia knew it had snowed the night before, and Emma would get that white Christmas she had said she wanted. It pleased Natalia to know that at least that much of the day was already a success.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet, the peace, everything that was sure to evaporate as soon as the day began. She knew there would be moments today when she would have cause to question her decision, and she needed to acknowledge that it would happen. That she would feel doubt--and that was okay.

She knew, now, how to deal with doubt.

It had been a very difficult fall. And, in some ways, the last three weeks had been the worst.

The joy she felt at the birth of her daughter had been all-encompassing, a moment of beauty she wanted to share, perfect, complete.

But her feelings - those precious early moments - had remained mostly her own.

Though she hadn’t been surprised at her presence, Natalia had known she wouldn’t have long with Olivia at the hospital, the feeling even stronger after she had reached out and challenged the distance between them. She had realized she was pushing too far, too fast, but she had needed Olivia to know it, needed her to _see_ it, that she had known exactly what to make of her being there.

She had known that, despite everything, Olivia not only loved her, Olivia still _wanted_ her--wanted them to be a family.

But when they put her daughter in her arms and Natalia momentarily lost sight of Olivia, she knew she wouldn’t find her when she looked back up again. She had resigned herself to that loss.

What she hadn’t resigned herself to was the loss of her son for Christmas. The idea that he wouldn’t be here, meeting his sister...

It had made it hard to get excited about the holidays. She had always planned on decorating, she didn’t want Francesca to spend her first Christmas in an undecorated home, but she thought the process would be easier, less forced, if she waited for one of Emma’s visits. It had been a good plan...except that, for two weeks, Emma didn’t come to the farmhouse.

Natalia had known the reason, and she didn’t blame Olivia. She had made her own choices, and their arrangement - the visiting schedule - had always been informal.

The fact that Olivia had allowed Emma to visit her at all told Natalia more about how Olivia still respected her than anything else she could have done. No matter what Emma wanted, Olivia was fiercely protective, and Natalia had felt her first real stirrings of hope when Olivia had finally allowed Emma to knock on her door.

And then Natalia had started hearing about them--Olivia’s acts of love from a distance.

The first one, Olivia’s fight with Marina, had taken awhile to reach her. But eventually she had heard about it...and by now she thought everyone else had, too. The report had been accompanied by the requisite whispers, the too-knowing looks, but, for once, Natalia hadn’t cared. She had been able to see her and Marina’s altercation from Olivia’s point of view, and had been quietly amazed at how much Olivia’s view of the situation had differed from her own.

Olivia didn’t see her as a victim. Olivia still respected her choices.

It had given her strength; it had given her hope. Feelings that continued as she learned about more expressions of Olivia’s love for her. Blake had told her about the phone call, looking relieved when Natalia seemed pleased by the news. Natalia had been grateful to her, well-aware that Blake had proven herself a good friend, although Olivia had been right--she had difficulty keeping secrets.

Natalia suspected she hadn’t discovered the full extent of Olivia’s attempts to care for her. Not everyone was as forthcoming as Blake, and the reach of gossip only went so far, but Natalia could make some educated guesses, could recognize suspicious activity - did Olivia really think she wouldn’t wonder when the hospital offered her a private nurse after her delivery? - and so she had never doubted Olivia’s love for her.

The knowledge had made it both easier and harder to face the consequences of their separation--

To face accepting that Olivia had missed her entire pregnancy, the good and the bad - the kicks, the cravings, the senselessly sleepless nights.

To face answering Emma’s questions, the problematic ones, the ones that made her realize that Olivia had chosen to reveal none of Natalia’s own culpability in the separation that so worried her daughter.

To face living here, alone, in the farmhouse, a place her absent family thought of as home.

It had been difficult.

But then Olivia had shown up on her front porch, and, after weeks of rebuffing Natalia’s invitations, had practically invited herself inside. Natalia should have known, should have seen it earlier - of course Olivia would want to see their daughters meet for the first time - but in the end, she suspected that Olivia had been looking for an excuse to come into the house. And she had found one.

Natalia had also suspected that Olivia would accept an excuse to come back again.

So she had provided one.

She had pushed again, similar to how she had pushed in the hospital, with Emma as the reason for this reunion, as Francesca had been the reason for the last.

The idea that Olivia might reject her proposal scared her, but she had chosen to listen to some of Olivia’s advice, rather than her own doubt-- _“Nobody got anything being afraid.”_

Natalia had used some of the strength in herself that Olivia so admired and had hidden her fear, hidden the cost. She had asked Olivia, about Christmas - about friendship - and she had meant everything she said. If friendship was all Olivia was capable of giving her right now, she still wanted it, for Emma’s sake, as well as their own.

And yet, she _wanted_ Olivia so much. Wanted her and wanted their family...

“I think we can convince her, Francesca.” Natalia said, cradling the back of her daughter’s head. “She’s a very stubborn woman, but I’m patient, and I know she already loves you.” She lowered her voice as she realized the baby had fallen asleep. “And I know she loves me too.”

Natalia prayed then, but silently, so as not to wake her daughter--

 _God, she waited for me, once. Now, I’m here, waiting for her. I know that she’s still scared, still hurting, but she needs to know it--that I’ll wait for her._

***

Natalia stood in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the platters of cookies she had arranged on the table. She hadn’t made many this year, concentrating on Emma’s sprinkle-cookies and some gingerbread people Natalia thought she would like, but the effect of their presence, the holiday shapes and colors, gave the kitchen a festive appearance it would have otherwise lacked.

Natalia felt grateful that Olivia had offered to bring most of the food for the day. She was already sore from this much movement; she wasn’t sure she could have managed to prepare a full Christmas dinner on top of everything else that she had needed to accomplish before everyone arrived today.

Her present task finished, she started to go up and check on Francesca, but stopped as she heard a car pull up in the driveway. For a moment, she didn’t know where she should meet them, whether to stay put or move towards the front entrance, but then she heard movement in the direction of the kitchen door.

There was a light knock on the door, but before Natalia could move to answer it, Emma had pushed her way inside.

“Natalia!” she said, running forward and wrapping her arms around Natalia’s waist.

Natalia allowed herself a second to simply appreciate the gesture, ignoring the pain that accompanied it, the way Emma’s arms pressed agains her incision, before she looked up to greet the other adults.

Olivia met her gaze, looking hesitant, but determined. “Merry Christmas, Natalia.”

“Merry Christmas,” Natalia said. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Olivia nodded, then looked towards her older daughter. “You remember Ava.”

“I do.” Ava’s smile as Natalia looked at her was completely without guile, and Natalia found herself smiling back. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” Ava glanced into the living room, then looked down at the spread of cookies on the kitchen table. “The place looks great.”

“Thank you. Emma was a big help-”

“Can I have one, Natalia?” Emma interrupted, looking down at the cookies.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natalia could see Olivia’s nod. “You go right ahead, baby,” she said.

There was a brief pause as Emma chose a cookie, and then Olivia said, with some reluctance, “And this is my brother, Sam.”

Natalia studied the tall man who stood so supportively by his sister. She had often heard Olivia talk about him, always with such pride.

“Hi Sam,” she said, still studying him. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Sam took the hand she offered him, his look coolly appraising. “Charmed,” he said, and Natalia almost appreciated it, how he didn’t try to hide his dislike of her.

The adults shared a tense moment, and Natalia glanced down, worried for Emma’s sake, but she was in the middle of concentrating on which cookie to take next, completely oblivious to any problems other than choosing an icing color.

“Sam,” Ava said cheerfully, “why don’t we help Emma put our gifts under the tree?”

Natalia thought Olivia might go with them, take the chance to escape, but instead she hung back, not moving from her position opposite Natalia.

“Thank you for inviting us,” she said, once it was just the two of them. Before Natalia could respond, Olivia continued, “About Sam, he-”

“-is your family.” Natalia offered her a small smile. “I can see the resemblance.”

“You’re not the first person to notice it,” Olivia said, her lips curving slightly upwards. She seemed about to say something else in a similar vein, and then she looked away. When she looked back, her expression had become unreadable. “I should check on Emma’s gifts.”

“I understand,” Natalia said, recognizing the ache as she watched her walk away.

***

“You should sit down. I’ve got this.”

“Olivia, I’ve already got my hands in the oven.” Natalia knew she shouldn’t be in this position, bent-over in front of the stove. She had read all the pamphlets and she was already feeling the predicted effects - her body too warm, her incision itching - but she was in no mood to take direction. “Give me a minute-”

“You can take your hands out again,” Olivia said stubbornly. “I brought the food from Company so that you wouldn’t have to cook today.” She moved to stand next to the oven and reached for the potholders. “Let me do it.”

“Would you not direct me in my own kitchen?”

Natalia could see Olivia gearing herself up to answer, but before the argument could escalate further, Emma ran into the kitchen.

“Mom, Ava wants to know if I can open her present.” In the silence that followed her question, Emma looked between them, at their flushed faces and irritated expressions, and eyed them suspiciously. “Are you guys fighting again?”

“No,” Natalia said, hearing Olivia echo the word right after her. “Your mom is just showing me the best way to heat food in my oven.”

Emma seemed mystified. “But it’s your kitchen.”

Natalia saw Olivia try to hide a smile. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” she said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“We’re good, Jellybean,” Olivia said, her voice not quite even. “And you can tell Ava that it’s fine with me.”

In the silence that followed Emma’s exit, Olivia looked from Natalia’s damp bangs to the still-open oven door. When she finally spoke, her tone was firm.

“You can’t invite us over and then do all the work.” Olivia reached out and took the pot-holders from Natalia. She flinched as their hands brushed each other, though she barely seemed to notice the reaction as she concentrated on completing her task.

“Fine,” Natalia said, relenting. She sank into one of the kitchen chairs, unsure if she would ever be able to stand up again. “Will you carry that into the living room for me? I need to sit for a minute.”

“Sure,” Olivia said as she opened the foil-wrapped packets of bread. “I saw where you have the baskets set up.”

Due to a number of considerations - seating restrictions, people coming and going, a new baby - the two of them had decided on a more informal approach to feeding everyone today. Rather than having a sit-down dinner, they had simply continued to put out food in stages throughout the day, replenishing the items they had laid out on the coffee table and the kitchen table as dishes emptied.

Olivia had looked surprised when Natalia initially suggested the idea, but it only took her a moment to nod her head in understanding. They might be trying to give Emma a traditional Christmas, but in the end it was about family, not formality, and this approach worked better for everyone involved.

Natalia watched Olivia walk into the living room and promised herself she would follow her in just a minute. One minute of rest was all she needed, and then she could face the assembled family in the other room--

She looked up to see Frank and Blake walking in through the kitchen door; she hadn’t even heard them knock. Frank didn’t seem bothered when she didn’t stand up to greet him--she could tell his mind was already on their daughter as he headed into the other room.

Blake started to follow him, then paused. “Are you doing okay?” she asked quietly.

Natalia nodded, not wanting to discuss the matter further with everyone in the next room. Blake seemed to understand, gently touching her back as she walked by her to join Frank in the living room.

***

“Are you ever going to share her, Frankie?”

Natalia had been clearing some plates in the kitchen, using the chore to take a brief respite from the crowded living room, when she heard Olivia’s question.

She immediately walked to the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame and looking in on the people gathered in her home. Ava, Blake and Frank sat on the couch together. Ava and Blake were talking, but Natalia could see Blake’s continued awareness of Frank’s presence next to her, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh. Frank had clearly been focused on his new daughter, but now was looking up at Olivia and carefully handing the baby to her.

And then Natalia finally got to see it, what she had been waiting for.

She got to see Olivia holding her daughter.

Olivia looked down at the baby in her arms with the softest of smiles, and for a moment Natalia was able to see her as she hadn’t seen her for months, all of her emotions visible - constant - on her face. She was transparently happy, she was breathtaking, and when she turned away, Natalia almost called out to her.

Then Natalia realized Olivia’s direction and she calmed, simply watching. Slowly, precisely, Olivia knelt down next to where Emma was sitting by the Christmas tree. Emma looked over at her mom with a delighted smile, and a question, one that Natalia could tell Olivia had expected her to ask. As Natalia watched, Olivia put Francesca into Emma’s arms.

Absorbed as she was, Natalia still heard the kitchen door open. She hadn’t even realized anyone had left the house, but she could do the headcount, so she knew who had just walked over to stand behind her.

“Do you need something, Sam?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the sight in front of her.

“No, I had to make a call, and I didn’t want to interrupt the joyous festivities,” he said, the words slightly mocking. “I’m done now, though, so I thought I’d come here and talk to you.” He moved to stand beside her, and Natalia could tell by the shift in his focus that he had just seen his sister.

They watched, together, as Olivia guided Emma’s hands, as she showed her how to support the baby in her arms.

Natalia finally closed her eyes, trying to lessen the effect of it, and she felt Sam staring at her.

“You really do love her, don't you?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

She forced herself to open her eyes and look at him. "Of course I do."

"Forgive me if I did not find that fact obvious before today.”

“Haven’t you ever made a mistake in a relationship?” she asked him. She knew she needed to be more eloquent; she had expected this conversation, prepared for it, but right now, with everything around her, she couldn’t think of what else to say.

“Are we labeling abandonment a mistake now?” he asked, and she recognized the cutting tone in his voice. “That’s one way of trivializing what you did to her over the summer. With her history, the way you left her-” he stopped himself, and she knew it had to have been in reaction to the look on her face. “Yes,” he said, more gently, “I’ve made mistakes in relationships. We all have. But at least I realize how my actions will affect other people-”

“You think I didn’t know she had been hurt before?” Natalia heard the depth of her emotions in her voice, everything she had controlled so well throughout the day, and she fought to keep her words even. “It’s not that simple.”

Sam looked as if he didn’t know quite what to make of her. “I guess not.”

“I didn’t want this for her,” Natalia said, “I wanted to make her happy.”

“You love her.”

“Yes.”

They turned back to look at Olivia again, in time to see her smiling at Emma, who had taken one of the baby’s hands in her own. Suddenly Emma laughed, looking up at her mom as Francesca’s hand batted hers.

“Look!” she said, and Olivia laughed with her. Then Olivia looked up, at Natalia, and shared the moment with her, offering her a smile that was almost shy.

Before Natalia could even appreciate the sight, it was over. Olivia had looked away.

But she wasn’t the only one who had seen it. “You know,” Sam said quietly, “if you made her look like that more often, I might actually start to like you.”

***

Olivia had sent Ava, Sam, and Emma into the kitchen to pack sandwiches to take back to the hotel with them. She had insisted on leaving the rest of the food with Natalia, and Natalia couldn’t find the energy to argue with her.

The two of them were cleaning up the living room, stuffing wrapping paper into the trash and sorting out presents. Olivia had a system for the latter activity, and Natalia found herself mesmerized by Olivia’s efficiency at fitting gifts into the relevant carrying bags.

“I think Em outdid herself this year,” Olivia said, as she tried to wedge a gift into a nearly full sack. Realizing it wouldn’t fit, she picked up a different bag. “I don’t know where we’re-” she paused as she peered down into the bottom of the bag.

She hesitated long enough for Natalia to feel concerned. “Are you missing something?”

“No.” Olivia considered the bag for another few seconds and then, almost reluctantly, pulled out a wrapped package. She looked up at Natalia and held it out to her. “Here. It’s a present. For you.”

“We already exchanged gifts.” Olivia had given her a sweater. As always, she had shown both knowledge of Natalia’s preferences and her own taste in her choice of presents. Natalia didn’t know if she could bring herself to wear it, but it was very beautiful.

“It’s not a Christmas gift. It’s my way of saying thank-you. For today.” Olivia seemed nervous when Natalia only looked at the package in her hands. “Open it.”

Natalia did as she asked, and found herself holding a thick, dark green book with gilt lettering. She looked at the title. “It’s a cookbook.”

“Yes.” Olivia reached out and touched the book. She wouldn’t meet Natalia’s eyes. “It’s a copy of the one I used when I lived at the palace, in San Cristobal. I know you’re always looking for recipes...”

Now Natalia couldn’t bring herself to look at Olivia. To distract herself from her emotions, she flipped open the book. What she saw there didn’t help her. “You wrote in it.”

“I marked a few of my favorites,” Olivia said, shifting uncomfortably.

“When did you...?” Natalia couldn’t finish the question, but she saw that Olivia understood.

“I bought it...before. But I thought-” she touched the book again, then withdrew her hand. “I still wanted you to have it.”

“Thank you,” Natalia said softly, and Olivia finally looked at her.

“Merry Christmas, Natalia,” she said, holding Natalia’s gaze for another moment before she turned back to packing her bags.

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Yellow**

 _“What are we so afraid of?”  
“Me? I’m afraid of everything. I wish I was more like you.”  
“I get scared too.”_

 _“You make me so happy.”  
“I do?”_

 **Side 1**

Natalia sat on her favorite park bench by the lake, one hand resting on the side of Francesca’s stroller. Despite the fact that she’d had to bundle both of them up, she didn’t regret her choice to take advantage of the weekend and the weather--it had been weeks since she had spent any significant amount of time outside.

She loosened her scarf a little, wanting to feel the chill of the day on her skin. She liked days like today - crisp and cold, but sunny - and they had been an all too-rare occurrence this winter, especially since February began. She had spent far more time than she would have preferred in the farmhouse this month, holding Francesca as she stared outside at the snow.

She loved her house, loved her daughter, but while the weather had allowed she hadn’t spent very many hours at home in the middle of the day, a habit she had been forced to change during the last few weeks. Even with the demands of her job and a new baby, once she had to stay inside for entire days at a time, without adult company or outside distractions, she found it difficult to keep herself occupied, her mind ever ready to turn to what was missing...

Usually on those long afternoons, when Francesca was napping, she would make herself a cup of hot chocolate and read. She had already made it through the book Olivia had given her for Christmas--had already read it through twice. Olivia’s description of her notations in the book had been a not entirely unexpected understatement. She hadn’t only marked her favorites, she had personalized them, and Natalia had spent almost as much time studying her comments as she had the recipes themselves.

In some ways, her favorite comments were the simplest ones.

 _I want to make this with you_ \--  
\--Next to a quiche recipe that called for a cheese that Natalia didn’t recognize.

 _This used to be my favorite breakfast_ \--  
\--By a list of ingredients for croissants that required more butter than Natalia had ever seen used in a single recipe.

She had also enjoyed the challenge of reading the recipes, knowing before she even opened the book that it was intended for a sophisticated audience. The recipes included in the book had clearly been chosen with the intent to cover a wide variety of people and tastes, and Natalia felt herself drawn into what once had been part of the experience of Olivia’s everyday life.

But she had to admit that her favorite element of the book was the inscription inside the front cover, the signature line so transparently modeled after her own-- _Love always, Olivia_.

Natalia thought that liking the signature best might be an insult to the rest of the thought Olivia had put into the gift, but she couldn’t help it. She needed the reminder. She hadn’t even made any of the recipes from the book yet. She was still waiting--and she had been waiting for Olivia for so long now that she cherished every reminder she had of the way it had been, before.

Natalia loved Olivia, but she thought she had never met anyone else so thoroughly frustrating. It wasn’t that Natalia couldn’t see the progress she had been making with her - she could - but it was happening at a speed that was, to use Olivia’s own word, _glacial_.

Olivia hadn’t come back inside the farmhouse since Christmas, though she now walked Emma up to the porch for every visit and would stand outside with Natalia for a short time and talk. Sometimes during these conversations, Natalia could get her to smile; occasionally, she even laughed. Once, she had looked back over her shoulder as she walked towards her car, and Natalia had to concentrate, to keep herself from following her.

Their phone conversations regarding Emma’s visits had slowly lengthened as well. The last one had lasted for almost a half-hour and included questions that did not involve their daughters. They hadn’t gotten very personal - _How is the Beacon?_ \- _Did your press party go well?_ \- but when compared with those early, halting, conversations, when Olivia would answer her in the barest of sentences, Natalia could appreciate how far they had come.

She just wished that it didn’t seem like they still had so far to go. Especially when she wouldn’t see Olivia or Emma for the next two weeks...

...or maybe she would. Because, as she looked past Francesca’s stroller and up the path in front of the bench, she could see Olivia walking towards them.

Natalia could tell Olivia hadn’t seen them yet. She was looking in the direction of the lake, though Natalia didn’t think she had really noticed that, either. Her focus seemed entirely inwards, her expression pensive, her hands deep in her coat pockets. Not for the first time, Natalia felt frustrated that she couldn’t ask her what she was thinking.

“Olivia,” she called out.

Olivia looked up at her slowly, as if needing an extra few seconds to accept that she wasn’t still walking through the park, alone. Once they made eye contact, Natalia found that Olivia’s hesitation before she approached her and Francesca was almost imperceptible.

Although Natalia had wondered if she would have to invite her, Olivia sat down on the bench beside them without needing either prodding or permission. She glanced first at Francesca, then Natalia.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Good.” Natalia knew the reason for Olivia’s wistful expression and skipped the rest of the formalities. “Have you heard from Emma?”

“She called yesterday. She and Ava were about to leave to visit the pier.”

Natalia studied her for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re letting her miss this much school.” When Olivia had called to tell her that she wouldn’t be by the house for two weeks because Emma was going to San Francisco, Natalia had barely managed to hide the extent of her surprise. Olivia hated it when Emma missed more than a day of classes. Natalia wasn’t the only person aware of this fact--Buzz had once made a comment to her about Olivia’s dedication to her younger daughter’s education.

“Ava promised me the trip would be educational. They’re studying marine life in science in Emma’s class right now, so she’s going whale watching while she’s out there. Her teacher agreed to let her give a presentation when she gets back.”

Natalia couldn’t help smiling. “Another presentation?” she asked, giving Olivia a sideways glance.

“I think this topic is safe,” Olivia said dryly. “Though I’ve already told her that I’m proofreading this time.”

Natalia knew the moment Olivia let herself reflect on the event they had been referencing, because she started fidgeting with her thumb ring. She looked back towards the stroller.

“Is she sleeping better?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” Natalia said. “She’s been doing better this week, and I hope that will continue, particularly for Frank’s sake.” At Olivia’s questioning look, she clarified, “He’s taking care of her Friday night.”

“Yeah? That's good for you.”

“It will be my first night without her.”

Olivia’s expression softened. “It’s hard that first night they’re not with you.”

“It’s always difficult when they’re away.” Natalia thought of Rafe, at his first sleepovers. In some ways, his absences then had been as difficult for her as his absence from her life now. She would miss Francesca on Friday; she knew Olivia was already missing Emma now.

Natalia looked over to find that Olivia had leaned forward and was adjusting Francesca’s blanket. She found it easier to ask her question with Olivia in the middle of a task.

“Do you want to have dinner with me Friday night?”

Olivia stilled. “What?”

Natalia waited until Olivia looked up at her, then said, with a calm she did not feel, “We’re friends, right? Friends have dinner together.” When Olivia didn’t immediately argue with her, she pressed her advantage. “Isn’t it better than eating alone?”

Once again, Natalia thought that Olivia would try and argue with her, and it appeared she wanted to, but couldn’t find the logic in it.

Neither of them liked being alone.

“Yeah, okay,” Olivia said, going back to tucking the blanket around Francesca. “I can have dinner with a friend.” She stood up and looked at Natalia. “Call me later this week and we can work out the details.”

“Great.” Natalia tried to keep her elation out of her voice. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” Olivia said again, and then she walked away.

For the first time in months, it didn’t hurt Natalia to watch her leave.

***

One look at Olivia’s face as they were asked the size of their party, and Natalia knew that their choice in restaurants had been a mistake.

Olivia herself had suggested Towers, and Natalia had agreed. For a long time, Towers had been familiar, comfortable; they had spent so many evenings here, as friends, that it had seemed a reasonable choice.

And if it hadn’t been the first time in months they were spending time, together, without the buffer provided by their kids, they might have been fine. But the fact that it was just the two of them complicated everything--it felt too new again, for dining here to be a good idea. The memory of their last meal here was too strong.

To add to their difficulties, once they sat down and ordered, it became apparent that the gossip about them had not suffered from their separation. As Natalia watched, two women at a table across from them looked in their direction, commented to each other, laughed. It didn’t really bother her, but when Olivia saw that Natalia had noticed them, she tensed, glancing from Natalia back to them, growing visibly more irritated as they ignored her glare.

When Olivia shifted in her seat, trying to get their attention, Natalia had finally had enough. She lifted her napkin out of her lap and set it on the table. “Should I get up and leave so you can go confront them?”

Olivia looked back at her, still irritable. “Would you stop worrying? I’m not going to make a scene.”

“Because we both know you would _never_ do that,” Natalia retorted, stung by her tone. She had forgotten how cutting they could be in their arguments. She had forgotten how quickly they could escalate. She had forgotten...

Oh. She had _forgotten_. Natalia saw Olivia’s surprise as she laughed softly, and the mood at the table shifted, the tension immediately lessening.

“You would never make a scene,” Natalia said, holding Olivia’s gaze. “Especially not for my benefit.”

Olivia brushed the side of her face with a finger, and Natalia loved that she couldn’t quite hide her embarrassment. “You _did_ hear about that.”

“I think everyone heard about it.”

“I-”

“Thank you.” Natalia saw Olivia’s relief at knowing that the gossip hadn’t upset her. It felt good to finally be able to tell her that she appreciated her actions. But simply thanking her wasn’t enough--she needed Olivia to know, to _understand_ , how much what she had done had meant. “You choosing to confront her, it-”

“It was long overdue,” Olivia interrupted. “It would have happened sooner or later, but what she said to you...” she looked away, and Natalia could tell that even all these months later, Olivia was still upset on her behalf.

Natalia nodded in agreement. “She was being unfair. Mean.” For a moment she paused, deciding whether to share, and then said, her voice soft, “But in some ways, I’m grateful to her.”

“You’re _what_?”

“When Frank heard about what Marina said to me, he came to apologize. We talked and I made sure he really understood that the only help I wanted from him was with our daughter.” Natalia hadn’t realized, before that conversation, how Frank had been holding on to hope, with Olivia out of the picture. In his case, it had been an act of kindness, taking that away. “After we spoke, he started spending more time with Blake. It was good for both of us.” Natalia smiled, thinking of the two of them sitting together at Christmas. “And now he’s happy. I couldn’t do that for him. But she can.”

“And you’re thankful to Marina for that?”

“Not for embarrassing me.” Natalia still found it difficult sometimes, walking into into Company. “But she made me think about what was best for...” she trailed off at the expression on Olivia’s face. “What?”

“You,” Olivia said, her tone warmer than Natalia had heard it in months. “You find the good in every person. In every situation.” She couldn’t seem to look away from Natalia as she said, very quietly, “You see things from such a beautiful...” her voice caught and she didn’t continue, turning her attention to her wine.

Natalia gave her a minute, then changed the subject. But she could tell that Olivia’s words were never far from either of their minds as they finished eating their dinner.

***

They went to dinner again the next Friday, meeting each other at Company.

The restaurant had been Natalia’s suggestion this time. Neither of them had been in the mood for a formal sit-down meal, making Company the obvious choice--though the reasons Natalia chose it had nothing to do with convenience.

She had known for a long time that Company was the place, after the hotel and the farmhouse, where Olivia felt most comfortable. Olivia’s love for the restaurant had been one of Natalia’s early clues that the other woman was very different from how she presented herself.

Natalia might have been surprised to learn that Olivia grew up poor, but she had already known, from watching her at Company, that her tastes weren’t always as refined as most people seemed to think. Natalia had seen what type of food Olivia requested, when placing an order--the first time she’d heard Olivia ask for tuna noodle casserole, she had studied her, intrigued. She had realized then that despite all of her money, Olivia sometimes liked simple things.

It wasn’t until later that Natalia became aware that Olivia could recognize this preference in other people, too. Not only with the Deckers, in the farmhouse, but also in her client base more generally. While she worked for Olivia, Natalia had quickly learned that she got along best with those clients to whom Olivia would recommend Company as a dining option. When talking to them, Olivia would mention not only the restaurant, but possible food choices as well, and Natalia had felt an undeniable tenderness towards her every time she heard those discussions--every time she was reminded that Olivia knew Company’s menu by heart.

So, given her choice of restaurants, Natalia had thought that eating at Company might help to put Olivia at ease.

What she hadn’t taken into consideration when making her choice was Marina’s ability to hold a grudge. The younger woman started glaring in their direction the minute they walked into the restaurant, and her attention towards them didn’t go unnoticed. Once again, there were looks, and whispers, Marina’s behavior prompting a sudden interest in their presence. Even after Buzz said something, low, to his granddaughter - something that caused her to momentarily leave the room - Natalia knew that both she and Olivia were aware of the stares that continued to be directed their way.

They had ordered, and Natalia had taken a few bites of her burger, before either of them commented on the situation.

“I feel like we’re returning to the scene of a crime,” Olivia said, offering Marina a less than friendly smile as she looked in their direction again.

Natalia felt relief, to acknowledge it. “I know. Remind me why I thought this was a good idea...”

“We _should_ be able to eat here.” Olivia’s look as she studied Marina was so transparently affronted that Natalia found herself amused.

“Olivia,” she said, “What are you going to do?”

Olivia glanced at her, about to reply...and then she smiled. “I’m going to tell you that you have something-” she touched herself on the corner of her mouth.

If Olivia hadn’t been so matter-of-fact about it, as usual, Natalia might have been embarrassed. She never had this much trouble eating neatly when she was alone.

“Here?” she asked, trying to mirror Olivia’s movements.

“No.” For a moment Olivia appeared to be struggling, fighting the instinct to reach out, and then her face cleared. “Yes,” she said as Natalia’s fingers moved lower. “There.”

Natalia worked to hide her feelings. It hurt, seeing such a clear display of Olivia not wanting to touch her. The contrast, from before, it-

She felt her disappointment lessen as she noticed that Olivia hadn’t looked away from her mouth. Trying to be subtle, she let her fingers linger.

Natalia thought Olivia might have caught on to the gesture, but she couldn’t be sure. Olivia refused to acknowledge the interaction; she pretended nothing had happened.

But Natalia had seen it, had seen her appreciation, and it helped to ease the frustration--the waiting.

***

The following Friday they met again.

When she called to set up the dinner, Natalia had been uncertain how Olivia would answer her invitation--whether she would pick up her phone at all. Emma had returned home this week, which meant that the reason they started these weekly dinners no longer existed. However, Olivia had taken the call as if nothing had changed, her only nod to needing an excuse for their dinner being a mention of Emma staying at a friend’s house for the night.

They had set up a time and place to meet with a minimum of fuss. In the end, they only had one option. Due to the presence of a VIP party in the ballroom, Olivia couldn’t leave the Beacon--so that’s where they were eating.

It felt a little awkward, for Natalia. She and Olivia hadn’t eaten here together for non-business purposes very frequently even before they had been a couple. Olivia preferred to keep her personal life out of the public dining room of her hotel.

Natalia wondered if that’s why Olivia seemed so distracted tonight--if she regretted choosing to go ahead with their plans to meet, here.

“What’s wrong?” Natalia asked, after she caught Olivia frowning at the table for the third time that night.

“Nothing,” Olivia said dismissively. She took a sip of wine and shifted back in her seat. Lifting her hand, she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s business.”

“We talk about business.”

“It’s an employee issue. Greg is leaving.”

Natalia could see now why Olivia was upset. As they sat here, Greg was most likely taking care of the event occurring in the ballroom. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I know it’s difficult to lose someone who works so well with the clients.”

“It is. He’s also good with the guests and he’s reliable. It’s going to take forever to train his replacement.” Olivia took an even bigger sip of her wine. “The rest of the employees aren’t taking it much better...”

“I understand.” Natalia had always liked him, too. He had been so helpful when she first started working for Olivia, always willing--

Natalia’s thoughts came to a halt as she realized that Olivia’s expression had changed--she looked almost dangerously amused. “What?”

“There is one part of this...” Olivia looked away a moment, composing herself. “I overheard some of the employees the other day, talking about Greg, and talking about other people they liked who had left. Your name came up.” Olivia paused, considering her. “Did you really lead your first staff meeting standing on a stool?”

Natalia tried not to wince. It had only taken her several more weeks of experience before she had started hoping Olivia wouldn’t find out about that.

She realized Olivia was waiting for an answer. “I wanted to look imposing...”

The side of Olivia’s mouth twitched, but she appeared to be making an effort to hide her smile as she changed the subject. “Should I drop Emma off at the usual time this week?”

“Yes, that’s still good for me.”

“Don’t let me forget to make sure she takes her extra bag with her.”

Natalia nodded. They did this from time-to-time to return items to their respective homes. Emma didn’t always pay the closest attention to what belonged where.

“There’s not that much to send with her,” Olivia said. “A few books and a small blanket.” She thought a moment. “Oh, and also-”

“Flashlights?”

“Yeah, there are several on her dresser.” Olivia looked at her, puzzled. “How do they keep getting there?”

“When she pretends to go camping in the backyard, she puts one in her backpack.”

“Camping.” Olivia looked down at the table, and this time Natalia knew why she was studying its surface so carefully. “What else does she bring?”

“She keeps it pretty simple. She takes a sleeping bag and a backpack with supplies--usually a flashlight and a snack.”

“A purist.” Olivia smiled, still staring at the table. “I like that.”

“Thank you for remembering about my things,” Natalia said, when Olivia looked back up at her. “It would be nice if Emma brought the flashlights back with her this week. She took my last one a few visits ago.”

“I can get them for you now,” Olivia said, and Natalia recognized the determined look on her face--a look that indicated her impatience, her need for action. “You should have one around the house.”

Natalia saw no reason to argue with her. “Okay.”

Olivia finished her wine, pushed back her chair, and stood. Natalia planned on following her lead, but took a minute to slide enough money to cover her portion of the meal onto the table. Olivia stared at the bills, looking just as displeased this time as she had the last two times Natalia had given her money.

“It’s my hotel,” she protested.

“I’m still paying.”

“But-” Olivia paused as Natalia offered her a determined look of her own. “Okay,” she said as she picked up the bills.

As they walked out of the restaurant together, Olivia nodded in the direction of the lobby. “Do you...?”

“No, I’ll come with you.”

Natalia hadn’t really thought about the possible implications of accompanying Olivia to her hotel room until they were both standing in the elevator. After Olivia leaned forward to press the button for her floor, she tried to shift away from Natalia--but there wasn’t very far for her to go. She shifted, then stopped, and Natalia became more aware of her then. Too aware. She couldn’t help noticing her, and her movements--the abrupt way she stilled.

She noticed the cut of Olivia’s suit. The way her hair was pulled back.

Studying her like this, Natalia could even see an effect of the wine Olivia had consumed during their dinner--the slight flush of her skin. For the briefest of moments, she allowed herself to wonder...

When the elevator doors opened, Olivia moved quickly in the direction of her room, and Natalia had to work to keep up with her.

Natalia wondered if they were both trying to ignore the same words as Olivia refused to look anywhere other than her purse as she concentrated on getting out her keycard-- _“Do you want to come in?”_

“I’ll get them and come right back out,” Olivia said as she started to open the door.

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“I think...” Olivia glanced back at her, then looked forward again, her palm pressed against the front of her door. “I think we need to be careful not to confuse things. And if you come inside with me...”

Natalia hadn’t expected her to come so close to admitting it. “Olivia-”

“No.” Olivia drew herself up--steadied herself. She turned around to face Natalia. “We shouldn’t come up here together again. It’s too difficult for me.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me that I can be your _friend_.”

Natalia was too tired of waiting to feel the least bit afraid. She stepped towards her.

“Olivia. We are _not_ friends. We-” she reached out and took one of Olivia’s hands in both of her own. Looking up into Olivia’s face, she gently slid her thumb along Olivia’s fingers. “This,” she said. “This is what we are. This isn’t what friendship feels like, and we both know it.”

Olivia pulled her hand back. “Natalia, I’ve told you-”

“I know. I know you still don’t trust me. But you love me, Olivia. And you know how much-”

Olivia’s flinch was subtle, but Natalia had been reading her in small gestures for months. She saw it--and she knew what it meant.

“I love you, Olivia,” she said, stepping back from her. “I’ll see you next week.”

Olivia appeared slightly confused by her change in tactics, but also very relieved. “Okay,” she said as she attempted a smile. She looked at Natalia as she moved back into her hotel room, and then she shut the door.

***

When Natalia got back to the farmhouse, she turned on the lights and immediately grabbed the basket of the laundry she had left at the foot of the stairs.

She went up to Francesca’s room and put away her daughter’s clothes, letting the familiarity of the task calm her. Once she had finished, she went back down to the kitchen. She pulled a chair back from the table and sat down, allowing herself to think about Olivia again.

After all these months, Olivia still didn’t understand. Natalia hadn’t convinced her--not the way that she herself had been convinced by Olivia.

She had never doubted the depth of Olivia’s love for her. It was a constant presence in her life, the strength of it communicated in so many of Olivia’s gestures.

Sitting alone in the kitchen, one-by-one, Natalia thought about them.

She thought of that first Christmas gift, the surprise of it--of the two of them sharing a part of Rafe’s childhood. She thought of her engagement party, the dress, the necklace--of Olivia standing beside her on her wedding day.

She thought of Olivia’s visit with Sister Anne; how knowing about it had helped her through her crisis in the summer. She thought of Olivia’s gift of the cookbook; how reading in it had gotten her through her difficult period in the winter.

She thought of Olivia and her family. Of Olivia, at Rafe’s hearing.

Of Olivia, at Francesca’s birth.

Natalia thought of Olivia, standing next to her outside the church. How she had made her request that day, the day that her son was leaving, already knowing what Olivia’s answer would be-- _“Would you come inside with me? Please?”_

How could she give Olivia that type of surety?

Natalia thought about it, about Olivia, until the early hours of the morning.

Finally, she stood and headed towards the kitchen cupboards. Still thinking of Olivia, Natalia pulled out her mixing bowls.

***

 **Yellow**

 _“We might have to give up some things if we’re gonna be together.”  
“I don’t want to give up anything. I don’t...I want...I want all of it. I want all of the things that people in love share.”_

 _“Cause you want the grand gesture. And I...I dunno. Should I get up and do my ‘I love Olivia’ dance? Would that make you happy?”  
“Yeah, I’d like to see that, actually.”_

 **Side 2**

 

Olivia walked into her office and shut the door. For a second she stood there and studied it, fighting the urge to turn the lock as well. She already regretted her choice as she decided against it, well-aware as she moved towards her desk that she had just accepted further interruptions to her day.

She didn’t remember the last time the Beacon had been this hectic. It was good that business was picking up again, but between dealing with the needs of a sudden influx of guests, the frequent calls from her business contacts in the midwest, and the complications in her personal life, Olivia had been feeling close to overwhelmed. She needed an afternoon here - in her office, by herself - to re-organize her priorities and re-think her long-term strategy--but she thought it unlikely that she would actually get it.

This despite the fact that not five minutes ago, she had told her new assistant that she was not to be disturbed until she indicated otherwise. She had told him--but she did not trust him to make it happen. He cared too much about offending others; it frequently made him useless.

She supposed he was in good company. Considering the volume at which she had given him the order, everyone who worked near her office had to be aware of her desire to remain at her desk, uninterrupted, for the next few hours. However, she didn’t have any more faith in them than in her assistant to prove their usefulness if a reason arose to put her order to the test.

It was all Greg’s fault, really. He had taken personal time today to prepare for his upcoming departure - time which Olivia herself had approved - but it had all been scheduled before the Beacon ballroom had been booked for an event this weekend.

The event in question involved several hundred people and any number of last-minute arrangements. Due to the lack of notice, Olivia had been able to charge a fortune without encountering a murmur of protest, but the monetary profits had come with a foreseeable cost--

Stress. Mostly in other people, but she had caught part of it. And it was something she really didn’t need in her life right now.

The only benefit of the situation was that she had a ready excuse for missing the Spaulding get-together this weekend. Phillip had called earlier this week to tell her about it, asking if she and Emma would be able to attend. He had even invited both of them to stay at the mansion, if Olivia liked the idea. A number of out-of-town Spauldings were making an appearance, which meant there would be endless hours of dining and socialization.

Olivia might have agreed to go for part of it, but the main reason for the impromptu reunion was a party Phillip and Beth had planned for Saturday--a party being held for Lizzie and Bill, in honor of Lizzie’s recently announced pregnancy. After she heard that, Olivia hadn’t felt the least bit sorry to have to decline the invitation for herself. She would never enjoy hearing Lizzie’s name anywhere in the vicinity of discussions regarding pregnancy. She had instantly begged off, citing business, a reason that Phillip of all people would understand.

In the interest of family relations, Olivia had agreed to let Emma attend without her. She had dropped her off at Phillip’s earlier this afternoon with the plan that she would stay at the mansion for a long weekend. Initially, Olivia hadn’t been sure about her stay there starting on a Thursday, but Phillip had assured her that he could be trusted to get their daughter to school on time the next day.

After having gotten her back from Ava so recently, Olivia still found it difficult to let her go, even for a weekend, but Emma had been excited at the prospect of a big party...and her absence granted Olivia another reprieve.

She had another Friday before she had to explain her weekly dinners to her daughter.

She would admit it--another reason she had been in no hurry to spend Friday night with the Spauldings was that, in her mind, the night already belonged to someone else...though she didn’t know their plans for this week.

They hadn’t set up their dinner yet. She was still waiting for Natalia’s call.

When Olivia had dropped Emma off at the farmhouse yesterday for her visit, the subject hadn’t come up. Olivia hadn’t wanted to discuss the topic with Emma present, and Natalia had also avoided it. She seemed to understand without being told that Olivia hadn’t figured out how to explain their dinners to her daughter.

And now she had been given another week to decide.

Once again, Olivia didn’t know what to tell Emma. The relationship between herself and Natalia was different now than it had been before Emma went away.

When Olivia had accepted Ava’s offer for Emma to visit her, she had done so with the intent of sitting Emma down and talking to her after she returned.

Although Emma had seemed so happy - so reassured - the first few weeks after Christmas, by the end of January Olivia had seen her discontent resurface. Emma hadn’t accepted the separation--she not only missed Natalia, she missed them all doing things _together_. It had gotten to the point that every time Olivia offered to take Emma anywhere, she asked if Natalia could go with them, too.

It hadn’t gone on for very long before Olivia couldn’t take it anymore. She had sent Emma off to Ava’s for a vacation before she told her. She thought that maybe giving her daughter some distance from the situation before she learned the reality of it would make accepting the truth easier on her.

But then, before Emma came back, the dinners had started. And, once again, Olivia was faced with the question of whether the full conversation was necessary.

If she and Natalia really could be friends in more than name only - similar to how they had been friends before - then she might not have to tell Emma much at all. It wouldn’t be everything they once had as a family, but they could do the occasional meal together or simply meet for ice-cream. That might be enough, for Emma...

And Olivia wouldn’t have to say anything else. She wouldn’t have to tell her any of the reasons they had spent so much time apart.

She wouldn’t have to hurt her, not the way-

 _“-the way you’ve been hurt?”_

She heard Natalia’s gentle words, and the honesty of them made her feel almost ashamed. Not telling Emma might seem the easiest course of action, a way to protect both Emma _and_ Natalia - a way to protect herself as well - but did that make it the right decision?

Did she owe her daughter the truth?

Was it fair to Emma to keep downplaying the changes in their lives? To keep trying to placate her longing for them to be a family again with the closest acceptable substitute she could manage on any given day? If she wasn’t satisfied with her own attempts, why should she assume Emma would feel any differently? She had already underestimated the depth of Emma’s feelings as compared to her own, both in the summer and in the fall. Did she really want to do it again?

And was it fair to Natalia to accept her presence in their lives, but only in a role far less meaningful than the one she still seemed to want?

There was only a single interpretation for Natalia’s actions towards her--

She wanted more. She wanted _a lot_ more than they had right now; she wanted more than Olivia was willing to give.

Olivia knew what Natalia was doing, had known what she was doing for months, and, she admitted to herself, she had _let_ her do it. She couldn’t find it in herself to be cold enough to stop her. She would have once been capable of it, of playing on Natalia’s insecurities, her shame. It would have taken very little effort--a few well-timed remarks, a look, then a silence. It could be over in seconds, cruel beyond measure, but quick, if not quite clean.

But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hurt her like that. Irrevocably.

She couldn’t completely let go of the woman who had shown such faith in her, even at her most undeserving.

 _“I trust you with my life, and I hope that you can do the same.”_

Olivia hadn’t even had to think about her reply. She’d had so much faith--first in Natalia, then in them, together.

She missed it, her utter conviction in them, and she knew that Natalia missed it, too. Olivia had seen the look of recognition on Natalia’s face when she realized what her leaving had cost them. The look on her face once the words had been said, out loud, to her-- _“I don’t trust you.”_

Olivia had thought that was it. They were done.

Except that Natalia had refused to accept the loss...and, in the last few weeks, Olivia had found herself questioning it with her.

Olivia still didn’t know how Natalia had done it. In some ways, she had been the Natalia that Olivia knew - respectful of her feelings, kind, self-sacrificing - but in her own quiet way, she had also reminded Olivia of herself.

She had been _relentless_ in going after what she thought she wanted.

She had also been more successful than Olivia believed possible.

Olivia could still see her own hand pressed against the door as she tried to ignore Natalia’s presence behind her. She could still feel the grain of the wood against her palm as she tried to concentrate on anything other than her reaction to the intimacy of Natalia’s words-- _“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”_

She had wanted to say yes. More than anything, she wanted to ask her inside.

She wanted to see if Natalia felt like she remembered; she wanted to rediscover her responsiveness, her warmth. She wanted to hold her and stroke her hair.

She wanted to tell her they could be happy together--that everything was alright.

But it wasn’t and she couldn’t. She wouldn’t lie to her.

 _“I don’t trust you.”_

And yet, she wished that she could. She wanted her and she wanted them.

She wanted so many things...

 _“You love me, Olivia, and you know how much-”_

Olivia closed her eyes as she waited for the feeling to pass.

When she could concentrate again, she opened her eyes and focused on the messages on the desk in front of her. For the rest of the afternoon she worked without a break, effectively ignoring her personal life for a few hours.

Or, at least, almost. Despite herself, she did keep glancing at the phone in between fielding business calls. No matter what they did tomorrow night, she was looking forward to spending time with her.

***

Later, in bed that night, for the first time in months Olivia allowed herself to think of Natalia while she took care of herself, the rhythm of her fingers changing almost immediately, their movements slower, deeper. She couldn't hold back a quiet sigh. She had missed this. She had missed thinking of them, like this.

She’d felt a vague sense of guilt, the first time she’d done it, not for the act itself, but for bringing Natalia into it, given the nature of the gratification. It wasn’t until they talked about sex, about how Natalia wanted it, wanted _her_ , that Olivia had finally felt comfortable admitting the extent of her desire, of admitting her need to hold the woman she loved.

She shifted positions, her breath quickening. It was amazing how good it felt, thinking of her, thinking of them, together.

The strength of her release shook her, sudden, almost brutal, and she didn’t even attempt to stifle the name, her cry--

 _Natalia_.

***

Olivia took the elevator down to the lobby. She used the few seconds she had alone to compose herself, to hide her disappointment.

Natalia hadn’t called.

And Olivia didn’t know why. She knew it was a mystery she could easily solve, her phone could dial as well as receive, but she found herself at a loss. She felt uncomfortable with her inability to read the situation.

She had rejected Natalia’s advances outside her hotel room--did that mean she was supposed to call? It was the type of back-and-forth, cat-and-mouse relationship dynamics that Olivia used to be so good at comprehending...and then exploiting to her own advantage. But the two of them had never played those types of games, and it left her feeling confused. Uncertain. Why wouldn’t Natalia call?

As Olivia stepped out of the elevator, she decided that she wouldn’t go after her this time. If this was what Natalia wanted-

“Ms. Spencer?”

Recognizing the voice, Olivia immediately looked in the direction of the front desk and saw David motioning towards a package sitting on the counter in front of him.

She approached him, pleased that her desk clerks had finally internalized her preferences regarding packages. She far preferred to take them to her room herself, particularly if they had been hand-delivered rather than mailed.

“This just came for you,” he said as she walked up to him. “Do you want me to hold it for you until-”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She barely looked at him as she picked up the package. It was a large, cardboard box, labeled with her name. The label was in Natalia’s handwriting, which was the norm for packages Olivia picked up from the front desk that hadn’t been sent by mail. Usually the dropped-off packages contained items for Emma - hand-sewn costumes and so forth - and Natalia always called first, so that Olivia would be expecting them.

Olivia found herself curious enough about Natalia’s departure from tradition that she decided the errands she had planned to accomplish could wait.

She headed straight back up to her suite. Once inside, she set the box on the edge of her bed and opened it. Inside she found two stacks of semi-transparent plastic containers with clear blue lids. As she pulled the containers out of the box and lined them up on the bed, she counted seven in total.

She could tell simply by glancing at them that they were filled with baked goods. It wasn’t until she looked closer, through one of the lids, that she could see that each container also held an envelope on which Natalia had handwritten a date. The earliest of the dates was the day of their dinner last week; the latest date was from yesterday.

Olivia still felt too curious to consider the wisdom of opening the containers. She picked up the one dated from last Friday and pulled off the lid.

The sudden aroma of chocolate was almost overpowering, but not in a bad way. She could see around the sides of the envelope and instantly recognized the individual cakes that filled the container. Though she couldn’t see inside the cakes themselves, she knew they contained dried fruit. She could also tell that Natalia had made a substitution--walnuts for the recommended macadamias.

Olivia knew this recipe by heart. It was one of the simpler ones in the book she had given Natalia; one she used to make for Marissa on the rare occasions she allowed herself to visit her sister and Jonathan. At the time, Olivia had preferred more elegant pastries, but her sister hadn’t, and so she had found this recipe and made the cakes for her, knowing she would enjoy them - simple and not-too-sweet.

She hadn’t made them since Marissa’s death. Although she loved Jonathan, had once risked everything important to her in order to protect him, Olivia had never forgiven Reva for everything she had lost by protecting her son. She had missed so much time with her sister before she died.

As Olivia pulled the envelope out of the container and carefully unfolded the sheets of paper inside, she wondered how much Natalia had known about Marissa, about Jonathan, when she read the note inside the cookbook.

Olivia looked down at the papers in her hand and realized that she was holding a letter. For a moment she sat, deliberating, and then she purposefully shifted herself back on the bed so that she could rest her back against the headboard as she read.

 _Olivia--_

 _It's been a long time since I've written something like this._

 _Did I ever tell you that Nicky used to write these for me? I took them with me, when I ran away from home with Rafe. I only had a single suitcase, and I took his letters. I was young and pretty much on my own and even years after he left, I would take them out and think of him, sometimes._

 _I think about you all the time._

 _Even though we were young, Nick and I had a lot to say to each other, but not like this. Maybe you’ll see here what you won’t let me say._

 _I love you, Olivia. And it’s hard to write letters to the love of your life. It’s hard to know what to say. You mean so much to me._

 _It was your Christmas gift that helped me know what to do. It’s not a new idea. It’s something I’ve done for you and Emma many times before, but you’ve always liked it._

 _I decided to bake for you. I would have liked to have made these recipes with you, but maybe it’s better that I got a chance to make them for you by myself. You might have been tempted to take over or direct me. And I know my kitchen too well for that._

 _I know my kitchen and I know you. I know how much you love me._

 _I wanted to start by making your favorite dessert, but it’s not really possible to get fresh mango here this early in the spring, so I chose to make something with chocolate instead. Emma would be proud of me._

 _I made this recipe first because I had most of the ingredients. I used walnuts instead of macadamia nuts, and I hope that’s okay. I know I should have waited until the grocery store opened and made them the way you’re used to, but I’m so tired of waiting. I wanted to start right away. We’ll make them again sometime, the right way. I’m sure you’ll be willing to show me how it’s done._

 _I tasted one when I finished, and I like them. I’m only making recipes that you commented on, and I don’t know if they’re the best, or just the ones you had comments for._

 _I already know how much our tastes can differ. I’m getting to see what you’re used to, the caviar sandwiches, and it’s wonderful._

 _I love you, Olivia, and I miss you. The house seems empty without you here._

 _Love always,  
Natalia_

Olivia felt almost numb as she looked at the letter in her hand. Before she had time to dwell on what she had just read, she picked up the container that had the next envelope in the series and opened it.

The sight of the neat rows of biscotti inside made her ache, even after all this time. She had made these, for Richard.

During their engagement, he had breakfast brought to her in bed almost every day. One morning, shortly before they were due to announce their upcoming wedding, she had finally surprised him, bringing him a tray with these cookies and an espresso. She would have brought him more - she wanted to make him something that tested her skills as a chef - but Richard hated making love on a full stomach...

Olivia turned to the letter.

 _Olivia--_

 _Francesca is back at home tonight, keeping me company while I bake. She’s calmer when I feed her down here. I think she likes the smell of cookies, or maybe she just likes the kitchen. You always liked my kitchen, too._

 _Right now, she’s sleeping. It’s easier, keeping a baby asleep, when there’s no traffic outside. When Rafe was little, I didn’t get much sleep at night. Sometimes I think he woke up every time a car passed by..._

Olivia had to pause at the picture created by Natalia’s words. She could see her clearly, awake and alone in the middle of the night. Except that she wasn’t seeing a teenaged Natalia holding a crying Rafe, she was seeing her Natalia, right now, handling nighttime feedings alone, in between stints of twice-baking biscotti.

She had never experienced such a detailed picture of Natalia’s life in her absence.

 _...your note says you used to make these cookies for Richard. You never told me why you didn’t marry him. I guess we don't talk a lot about our pasts..._

Olivia wondered that Natalia hadn’t noticed it before. She knew why she preferred not to discuss her own past in too much detail. She didn’t know Natalia’s reasons, but she had always respected her privacy--had even helped her change the subject once or twice, when she looked uncomfortable...

Needing a distraction from memories of herself, of Natalia, Olivia picked up the next container. The cookies inside this one almost made her smile. Natalia had made the butter cookie recipe. The container was completely full of them--delicate cookies sandwiched together with jam. Olivia had frequently used fig jam for the filling, but she thought that Natalia had used her favorite, blackberry.

These were the cookies that had most commonly been served during afternoon gatherings of diplomats.

Olivia had received her first marriage proposal after one such gathering. At the time, she had been free to accept. Richard had still been in mourning for Catherine; he barely noticed Olivia’s presence. Despite his inattention, she had been far too in love with him to truly consider anyone else, though her feelings hadn’t stopped her from taking other men to bed from time-to-time. This time, she’d apparently made a greater impression than she realized, and she’d found herself trying to extricate herself from something that could have turned into a small scandal, considering the proposal came from a visiting diplomat on whom Richard heavily relied.

She had managed to talk her way out of it, her refusal offending no one. However, Richard had become aware of the offer towards her--and had promptly raised her salary and kept her much closer to him. She had been thrilled. She hadn’t known then that she would never be his first choice. That he would never really love her.

Olivia shifted her attention to the letter that accompanied the cookies. She only made it through a few paragraphs before she was smiling again, past relationships momentarily forgotten.

 _...this isn’t the kind of cooking I’m used to. I’m not surprised to see that tuna noodle casserole isn’t in this book._

 _When you said you grew up poor, I imagined you eating it with you family. But now, I don't know. Did you have tuna noodle casserole on San Cristobal? If you didn’t, you’re the first person I’ve met that likes it who didn’t grow up with it. Was it the first thing you ate at Company when you came here? Why did you ever decide to try it..._

Olivia rested her head back against the headboard, still smiling. She had been surprised to learn that Natalia didn’t even like the casserole. They had eaten it often at the farmhouse, and Olivia hadn’t discerned that Natalia had been doing that just for her. She knew that Natalia wouldn’t make it anymore without her there.

Olivia looked back down at the letter again, and finished it. As she put the pages back into the envelope, she realized that the first of Natalia’s letters had been the shortest by far. Each subsequent letter had been longer than the last; each slightly more intimate - more personal - as Natalia seemed to grow increasingly comfortable with her task.

Her choice of recipes also seemed to be growing more assertive. When Olivia opened the next container, she found squares of fragrant, cinnamon dusted cake. The recipe for it wasn’t very difficult, but the final step involved soaking the cake in a cardamom-laced honey syrup, and Olivia wasn’t sure if Natalia had ever worked with cardamom before. She herself hadn’t, the first time she made this recipe; it had also been her first experience working with a dessert that called for whole spices--cinnamon sticks, cardamom pods.

She had learned to make it for Catherine. It had been her favorite, and while Olivia would never truly like Reva, Catherine had been her friend. During the time she knew Reva as a different person, Olivia had many opportunities to observe the other woman’s courage, and she had admired her. It was why she stepped aside, the first time, when Richard fell in love with her.

Given the difference in their social standings, the friendship could only be so deep, but they had shared the occasional afternoon tea, and the food served to them had frequently included cake that Olivia made herself.

Olivia had enjoyed those quiet moments with a friend. At the time, such an experience was foreign to her.

She had wanted to share that, with Natalia. It was one reason she had bought her the cookbook. She had thought they could share the experience of cooking together, eating together. Olivia had never made a recipe from this book with someone, only for someone, so that part would be new to her, too.

She looked at the cake again and felt a surge of pride. Like with Catherine, what had first drawn Olivia to Natalia was her courage.

Before Natalia, Olivia had never met anyone who would not only stand up _for_ her, but also stand up _to_ her, completely unafraid of their disagreements--completely unafraid of her...

 _Olivia--_

 _I’m writing in bed this time. I already finished my baking for tonight, and I think I’ll try to sleep before Francesca wakes up. We’ll see. I always slept better when I knew you were sleeping down the hall. I miss you being there. I miss making you coffee in the morning._

 _You’re challenging me again. Today’s recipe scared me when I first decided to make it. It seemed so difficult. I had never in my life made a syrup or ground my own spices. These aren’t things I’m good at. These aren’t things I know._

 _But I tried it anyways..._

Olivia couldn’t seem to control her reading speed--or her need to know what Natalia had made next. Before she had even finished the letter in her hand, she was already reaching for another container. She glanced at the date, confirming she had the right one, and then she pulled off the lid. The container was full of lightly sugared beignets that - as Natalia herself noted - hadn’t quite turned out.

 _...and please don’t tell Sam about these. I think he hates me enough already..._

Olivia laughed. It was true that Sam would probably have a comment or two, if he were served this batch of his favorite pastry. However, Natalia was wrong about one thing--Olivia was pretty sure that Sam didn’t hate her. After Christmas, he had been remarkably quiet about Olivia’s choice to spend the day with the woman who had broken her heart. Considering what he had witnessed over the summer, and knowing Sam, his lack of commentary could even be taken as a compliment.

Gently placing the letter on the bed next to her, Olivia picked up the next container. This one held small, free-form apple tarts. They had a rustic quality that made Olivia think of picnics, and she felt certain that her comment had reflected her desire for them to go out together, as a family. Back when she lived at the palace, they had picnicked all the time. She hadn’t realized, until Emma’s comment before the barbecue, how long it had been since she’d actually enjoyed one of them...

 _Olivia--_

 _I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But I miss you. I miss us. I miss everything about us, and I miss our family._

 _You’re missing so many moments in the lives of our daughters, and I don’t know how to get them back for you._

 _During Emma’s visit this week, she wanted to try drinking tea with her cookies rather than hot chocolate. I thought about giving her a cup. I have leftover sugar cubes from a church luncheon I helped organize, and I thought she would enjoy getting to put them in her tea._

 _I didn’t do it. I didn’t give them to her. I made her wait. I made her wait for you, but it’s not easy for her and it’s not easy for me..._

Olivia’s hand shook as she reached out for the final container. When she opened it, she knew she was going to cry, even before she pulled out the letter.

The cookies nestled below the envelope weren’t from a recipe out of her book. They were Natalia’s cookies, the ones that Olivia and Emma had been unable to reproduce on their own during her absence.

Olivia slowly unfolded the letter, trying to focus on Natalia’s words, no longer able to hold back her tears.

 _...there’s room to add recipes at the back of this book, and I’ve already written this one on the first of the blank pages. I know it’s not very fancy, but you like these cookies and so does Emma, and I want to make them with you again. I want to make all of these recipes with you._

 _I don’t know how else I can show you how much I want a life with you, Olivia. I miss you so much, and I’m tired of waiting. I know what I want. I want you._

 _I know what you did for me. All those nice things. I learned about some of them from Frank, during our pre-marriage counseling. I learned about some of them during the fall. And I know about the meeting with Sister Anne._

 _I know how much you’ve done for me. I know how much you love me. But even though you’ve given me so much, I do need something from you-_

 _Will you come inside with me? Please?_

 _Love always,_

Olivia reached out and touched the letter--touched Natalia’s name. Wiping away her tears, she looked around her, at the bed, at the way she was surrounded by the evidence of Natalia’s love for her. It was everywhere she looked--and she now knew it always had been. No one had ever loved her like this.

No one had ever done something like this for her before.

For a long time, Olivia simply sat there, her gaze drifting from one item to another. She thought about reading the letters again, then decided against it. Instead, she put them away, carefully sliding each one into the correct envelope and then setting them in a pile on the unused side of the bed.

She stood up and walked into their dining area, returning to the bed carrying a small stack of plates. Methodically, she arranged all the baked goods onto the plates, completely emptying each container.

After she was done, she stacked the containers, placing all the lids in the top one.

Her pace increased as she grabbed her purse. She juggled it and the containers as she shoved her bare feet into her shoes, practically tripping in her haste to get out the door.

***

Natalia was sitting on a chair on the porch when Olivia pulled into the driveway. She stood as Olivia got out of the car, but didn’t come any closer.

Olivia left her purse in the passenger seat, but grabbed the containers before she shut the door. She walked up the path to the porch, not quite able to look at Natalia as she approached her. Even after she had climbed the steps and was standing right in front of her, she still couldn’t look at her.

“Here,” she said, holding out the containers. “I brought these back for you.”

Natalia took them, and Olivia noticed how she was careful not to let their hands touch. “Thank you,” she said, quietly, uncertainly.

Not wanting to cause her any more pain, Olivia looked up at her then, and Natalia’s face lit up. Olivia didn’t think she had ever seen a more beautiful smile.

“You liked it? I thought-” Natalia paused as Olivia took a halting step forward and reached out to touch her face. For a second, Natalia’s eyes closed, and Olivia could tell she was savoring the touch. When she opened her eyes, she looked up, searching Olivia’s face. “I wanted you-”

Natalia’s words were cut off as Olivia took one last step forward, cupped Natalia’s face in her hands--and kissed her.

Natalia made a soft sound of surprise, and Olivia heard the containers hit to the ground, felt them bounce off her feet before they clattered across the porch.

And then it was like last time, it was like she remembered, only better, because she could feel Natalia’s hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her closer, she could feel Natalia’s mouth opening under her own--she could feel Natalia’s lips softening as she kissed her back.

It went on for a long time. Every time Olivia tried to draw back, Natalia followed her, unwilling to let her go.

Olivia finally brushed her lips reassuringly, once, twice, then pulled back just far enough to be able to look her in the face. She smiled at her and received a tremulous smile in return.

Sliding her hand upwards, Olivia used her thumb to wipe a tear from Natalia’s cheek. “Hi,” she said softly, unable to look away from her. “I missed you.”

Natalia leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "I missed you too."

***

Olivia walked into the living room behind Natalia, who immediately moved to the sofa and lowered herself onto the cushion closest to the door.

“It’s good to sit down,” Natalia said, holding out a hand to her. “Are your legs shaking?”

“Oh yeah,” Olivia said honestly. She sat down next to Natalia and took the offered hand, raising it to her lips.

“Mine too.”

Olivia loved the slight catch in Natalia’s voice. She had missed touching her so much. As she lowered their hands to rest on the couch, she cautioned herself to go slow. They had a lot of catching-up to do.

“Well, you have to be tired,” she said. “You’ve been _very_ busy.”

“I have,” Natalia agreed, and Olivia thought she should feel flattered that Natalia looked so pleased with the results.

Olivia couldn’t help the wonder in her voice as she said, “You _love_ me.”

Natalia smiled the smile that Olivia so adored. Intimate. Secretive. Hers. “Yes.”

“No one’s ever done something like that for me.”

“They should have.” Natalia pulled their hands into her lap and studied Olivia’s face. Olivia knew when her expression betrayed her - when Natalia saw the last tendrils of her doubt - because she laughed softly. “I love you so much, Olivia. I was really afraid of what I’d be willing to give up to be with you.”

She didn’t have to explain further. Olivia understood. “I never wanted you to make that choice.”

“Neither did God,” Natalia informed her. She shifted her body closer to Olivia’s and Olivia smiled as she felt Natalia’s head tilt to rest on her shoulder.

They sat like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word, until Olivia took a closer look at the pictures on the coffee table. They were of Francesca, clearly taken right after Natalia had brought her home, and Olivia suddenly felt the weight of her regret.

“Natalia,” she said, “I’m sorry-”

“I am too,” Natalia said, not moving from her position. “I love you, Olivia.”

Olivia supposed they could talk about it later. “I love you too,” she said, tilting her head down so that her cheek rested against the side of Natalia’s hair.

This time, it was Natalia who raised Olivia’s hand so that she could kiss her fingers and, after another period of silence, it was Natalia who reached up to cradle Olivia’s face so that they could share another kiss.

***


	7. Chapter 7

**Purple**

 _“I choose you.”_

 **Side 1**

 

Natalia’s laughter wasn’t very loud, but Olivia could see why people looked around at the sound. It was beautiful-- _she_ was beautiful.

She had on a patterned, light blue dress that Olivia had never seen her wear before, and Olivia wondered if she knew how distracting she looked in it. Several times during their meal, Olivia had found herself shifting her focus from Natalia to her plate to keep her eyes from following the path of the delicate vine motif that twined down into the garment’s rather low-cut neckline.

Olivia thought that once or twice Natalia had caught her staring, but if she had, she hadn’t been offended. Every time Olivia looked back up at her, her smile had been just as - if not more so - genuine.

She had found that distracting, too.

And once Natalia started laughing, Olivia knew herself to be lost. She nearly gave up on their conversation altogether; she just wanted to look at her.

Somehow she had managed to keep speaking, but she was having trouble remembering the words to her own story. She wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up relating this particular faux pas, in the middle of a restaurant, to Natalia, of all people. She blamed Natalia for encouraging her, once she got started.

She _knew_ that Natalia was the reason she’d felt compelled to begin the story in the first place. There had been a comment, in passing, about Olivia’s worldliness, her experience, and Olivia had known where it was coming from.

They were sharing another Friday meal at Towers, but it was a lunch, not a dinner.

They were having dinner at the farmhouse.

Their evening plans had been Natalia’s suggestion, but Olivia hadn’t been surprised to encounter evidence of her nerves. She herself had been feeling something similar all week, knowing where she would spend tonight.

She had expected the feeling, but she wanted Natalia to feel better - more confident - so she had decided to share something from her past, something that would distract Natalia from worrying about tonight. Something that showed, whatever her own knowledge, or experience, she didn’t always know what she was doing either.

At least she had the satisfaction of knowing her distraction had worked. As she paused mid-sentence to take a sip of water, Natalia leaned forward, intrigued.

“And then?” she asked.

“And then Maura and Shayne walked in.”

“Behind Josh?”

“Yeah.”

Natalia stared at her. “With you...?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What did you do?” Natalia asked, and Olivia had to smile at her tone. She herself had been similarly scandalized back when it had happened.

“I went into the other room and changed.”

In truth, Olivia had been tempted to destroy the lingerie set, robe and all. After the weeks she had spent trying to win over Josh’s kids, it was a mortifying setback. Shayne had been impressed, it was true, but it was hardly the type of friendly feeling she had been hoping to elicit.

Natalia looked as if she might laugh, once she got over being appalled.

“What did Josh do?” she asked.

“He mostly laughed,” Olivia said. “He thought it was funny.”

She had been far less convinced of the humor of the situation at the time. But now, as she watched Natalia’s smile widen, she thought she had finally found some good in the experience.

“I dropped Francesca off at Frank’s before I came here,” Natalia assured her.

Natalia’s words were warm, teasing, and Olivia knew she had been right to share, if it caused Natalia to make a joke.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

Natalia laughed again, most likely at her expression, and then asked, more seriously, “Do you need help with Emma this afternoon?”

“No, Phillip offered to pick her up from school.” Olivia felt hesitant to continue, the implications of the rest of his offer were unmistakable, but she knew she should finish it. “He said she could stay the weekend, if...”

“That’s nice of him.” Natalia looked down and toyed with a forkful of pasta. When she looked back up again, her hesitancy matched Olivia’s own. “It’s a little...”

“Yeah, it is,” Olivia agreed.

She was used to having other people involved in her personal life; for years now, she had been a consistent topic of local gossip.

However, this felt different.

Phillip’s awareness, his offer, had made her feel thankful--and also uncomfortable. Her discomfort had been particularly strong the first time he mentioned it...

*** 

_“Emma tells me that the two of you went out to dinner with Natalia the other night,” Phillip said as they stood by Olivia’s car and waited for Emma to come back out of the mansion with her backpack._

 _“We did.”_

 _“You know,” he said, “Emma’s welcome to visit here as often as she wants-”_

 _“Thank you,” she said, her tone indicating that she didn’t want to discuss it further._

 _She could tell that her reticence had captured his interest, but he didn’t push her on the subject. They waited together in silence for Emma to return..._

*** 

Olivia had seen the same reticence in Natalia as in herself, when Frank made a similar offer. They had been sitting on a park bench when Natalia told her about it, and Natalia had seemed relieved at having the distraction of nursing Francesca.

Frank wasn’t a very subtle person, but Olivia had to give him credit for trying. He had simply offered to watch Emma on some of his Fridays with Francesca, so that the two girls would have more time together.

Natalia had been very taken with Frank’s thoughtfulness as she recounted his offer, and though, secretly, Olivia suspected that the idea had been Blake’s, she had felt so pleased that Natalia informed her about it - knowing what it meant - that she decided not to comment.

For the time being, they had decided to keep everything as close to normal as possible, which meant sending each girl to stay with her respective father. This was mostly for Emma’s benefit--Olivia thought her schedule would benefit from the continued stability of regular visits to the mansion. There had been too much upheaval in her life this year.

There had been too much upheaval in all of their lives.

Olivia looked over at Natalia’s half-finished plate of spaghetti. Neither of them usually had a problem with the portions here. Sometimes they even shared dessert.

“Natalia,” she said, “are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“We can wait.” The look of pure exasperation Natalia directed her way made her feel the need to defend herself. “What?” she asked flippantly. “We’re good at that.”

She knew the words were a mistake the minute she uttered them and she watched, regretfully, as Natalia’s whole body tensed.

“That’s not funny.”

“I know.” Olivia touched her hand, the one that lay near her own on the table. “I’m sorry.”

Natalia studied her, and her next words were careful. “Do you...?”

“No,” Olivia said, her voice low. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She reached forward again, this time taking Natalia’s hand in her own. She saw Natalia relax, and felt her hand shift forward. When she looked down, their fingers were intertwined.

She smiled at the sight. It was rare that they held hands while eating. They had tried it once, weeks ago, on their first or second real date, but hadn’t found it to be very practical. They spent most meals with their hands close to each other but not quite touching. It allowed them to eat with a minimal degree of awkwardness, yet still be close enough that physical contact could be achieved with very little effort.

Olivia thought the need would lessen, with time, but right now both of them still craved the reassurance of the other’s touch in a way they hadn’t...before. It was a need that had persisted despite the amount of time they had spent with each other in the weeks following their reunion at the farmhouse.

When Olivia had gotten home that night, she had called Natalia, eager to reestablish their evening conversations. She didn’t want to waste anymore time.

They had both been too exhausted to say very much. Olivia had thanked her, again, for the gift; they had, once again, reaffirmed their love--and then they had said good-night.

But they had seen each other again only a few days later. Olivia hadn’t wanted to wait then, either; she had moved Emma’s visit to Monday. They had walked into the farmhouse together, bringing the remainder of Natalia’s pastries with them. Natalia had made both tea and hot chocolate to go along with the desserts, and Emma had been more excited than Olivia had ever seen her.

Olivia was sure that part of it had to do with a prolonged sugar-high - Emma had certainly eaten a lot of sweets at the Spaulding party as well - but she thought that most of it was due to the fact that Emma felt the shift in her own situation. She had beamed when they all held hands to say grace before they started eating, and Olivia had seen her stealing glances at both her and Natalia even as she was concentrating on putting sugar cubes in her tea.

Neither Olivia nor Natalia had been surprised to find out that Emma preferred hot chocolate to tea, though Olivia still felt gratitude towards Natalia, for making sure that she hadn’t missed Emma’s first taste of the drink. Even with all the sugar, Emma had clearly still felt the effect of the bitterness--her face had been priceless.

After that afternoon, Olivia had continued to go inside with Emma during her visits, making them her own as well. She and Natalia had also continued to talk on the phone, almost every night.

And they had continued their Friday night dinners.

They were unambiguously dates now, and the lack of pretense made a difference, made them more comfortable around each other. What little remained of the awkwardness between them had slowly abated, dinner-by-dinner, as they spent hours together, talking.

They hadn’t discussed everything; they were still easing into the more difficult topics. It wasn’t that they were avoiding them, exactly, but rather that they had decided to spend time focusing on everything they had missed about each other.

It was their unspoken agreement. They both needed time to heal before they opened it all back up again.

Not that they didn’t frequently feel the aftereffects of the separation. Even the most well-intentioned of gestures could reawaken the pain.

There was the week Francesca had a bad cold, when Olivia came by the farmhouse an extra afternoon, without Emma, and had taken over the infant’s care. She had fed Francesca and walked with her, a bottle in hand as she paced around the living room. She had split her attention between the baby in her arms, and the baby’s mother, directing most of her quiet conversation towards Natalia, who was lying, exhausted, on the couch.

After Olivia had finally gotten Francesca down for a nap, she had come back downstairs to find Natalia crying, a hand over her face as her body shuddered against the couch.

Olivia hadn’t said a word. She simply sat down on the couch beside her, waiting until Natalia shifted forwards before she laid down and cradled Natalia’s body with her own. They had lain together on the couch for a very long time, Olivia gently resting her chin against the back of Natalia’s shoulder until she had calmed and they could talk.

It had been a rough afternoon, but it wasn’t the last one like it, and it definitely wasn’t the worst. Olivia herself had been responsible for the worst, the one - and only - Friday she’d dropped Francesca off to Frank.

Her intentions had been good. She had offered to do it to keep Natalia from having to leave one of the publicity events for a lucrative series of books she and Blake had been promoting.

And Frank had meant well, in his apology to her. Apparently, he had been feeling guilt for a long time, for his treatment of her during the summer. But his reference to Natalia’s absence, to his comments - about Olivia, about her ability to drive people away - it ripped it all back open again. The wound had seemed almost new.

She had gone to dinner with Natalia that night and drank far too heavily...then hurt Natalia’s feelings when she wouldn’t accept help back up to her room.

They had fought, in undertones, outside the Beacon’s elevator, the argument intense and quickly escalating. All that saved them from saying things they might later regret was Olivia managing to string together Frank’s name and the relevant season. Summer.

Natalia had backed off. She helped Olivia into the elevator and left. Later in the evening, she’d called Olivia to check on her, and they had talked about some of it then--about Frank and Natalia, about Blake...and about Olivia’s fears.

It had been a good conversation, and even as she nursed her hangover the next morning, Olivia had been grateful that it occurred. Natalia had waited until late in the day to call again, but her first words had been an invitation. She wanted to re-do their dinner that very night.

So they had, talking and touching as usual, and it had been good for both of them, lessening the memory of Olivia’s distance the previous evening.

In some ways, that Friday had been most noteworthy for the physical distance Olivia maintained between them. Through the rest of it all, even the bad days, they were very affectionate, touching and holding hands and, of course, kissing.

The first few times they had kissed, it had been different from how it was now. As far as Olivia could tell, both of them had enjoyed those kisses and all they represented; but, more than anything, they had been a sign of their ability to move forward, of their newfound intimacy. There had been want in them, even then, but it had been restrained.

They had been so happy, just to be near each other again.

Natalia was the one who had taken it to the next level, one night, in the front seat of her car.

Of the two of them, Olivia liked to drink more, so Natalia frequently did the driving when they went out together. She would pick Olivia up at the Beacon, then take her back home after they had finished their meal.

This particular Friday night, Olivia had climbed into the front passenger seat and, as she was getting settled, asked Natalia a question. She hadn’t received an answer so she had looked over at her and found herself being scrutinized...

*** 

_“Natalia?” Olivia asked, unnerved by the other woman’s silence._

 _Rather than answering in words, Natalia leaned towards her and laid a hand against her cheek. It was a gesture of possession, and Olivia could feel her want even before the kiss that followed it._

 _The kiss itself was slow and surprisingly sensual, deeper than any kiss they’d shared before. As she lost herself in it, Olivia recognized how much attention Natalia had been paying to her own preferences these last few weeks. The way Natalia teased her mouth open, the extra attention she paid to her lower lip..._

 _By the time Natalia finally pulled away, Olivia had been shaken._

 _“What...?” she asked, not sure if she even expected an answer. The intimacy of the gesture had left her with few enough words of her own._

 _“Last night, I...” Natalia paused and glanced down to where her hand still rested on Olivia’s cheek. Her next words were very, very quiet. “I had been thinking of you...”_

 _Olivia immediately understood. She’d had similar experiences herself. With great tenderness, she reached up and brushed some hair back from Natalia’s face._

 _“Was it a good dream?” she asked._

 _Natalia looked back up at her. “Yes,” she said, the simplicity of her response at odds with all the emotions Olivia could hear in her voice._

 _Olivia couldn’t help reacting to her intensity. As she removed Natalia’s hand from her face and held it in her own, it wasn’t just about Natalia’s need anymore._

 _Lifting Natalia’s hand to her mouth, she offered her the familiar, the comforting - a lingering kiss on her palm - and then she offered her the new, gently nipping at her fingertips._

 _Natalia made a sound, low in the back of her throat, and Olivia pulled back, not wanting to take it farther than either of them could handle..._

*** 

Their kisses had changed after that, and their touches had started to linger. One night, in the hallway outside Olivia’s hotel room, they had become so involved in each other that it had taken them a few moments to notice that the elevator had stopped on the floor, and someone was about to pass by. They had separated in enough time to save themselves too much embarrassment, but Natalia had been tense every time they said good-bye there ever since.

Olivia had just felt glad that Josh didn’t live on the floor any longer. If they had been interrupted by him - or Reva - she never would have heard the end of it.

Regardless, their lack of privacy had become a problem...even though its absence was entirely self-imposed. Olivia didn’t invite Natalia back into her room after their dates. They always ate dinner out, not in her suite, not at the farmhouse, and even when her and Emma’s visits ran late, Natalia never invited them to spend the night.

They both knew why, and as the weeks passed, Olivia could feel an increase in the tension between them. There was a heaviness, a frustration, in their partings that she didn’t like, and though she knew the fix, she hesitated to make the suggestion.

But Natalia hadn’t. Early this week, they had been sitting on the porch at the farmhouse, talking and enjoying the late spring weather, when the subject of their Friday night plans came up. Emma was inside, finishing her homework, and Francesca was napping, so aside from the baby monitor at their feet, it was just the two of them.

Before Olivia could suggest a restaurant, Natalia asked her over for dinner. Her voice had been so calm, so sure, that at first Olivia thought she had misunderstood the nature of the invitation...

*** 

_“We could have dinner here this week.”_

 _Olivia stopped contemplating possible restaurants, her gaze drawn to where Natalia’s hand now rested on her knee. Had she...?_

 _A quick study of Natalia’s face told Olivia that she had--and that she would really like an answer to her invitation._

 _For a moment, Olivia hesitated. She knew how she wanted to reply, but she remembered Natalia, after Frank. Her regret. Her guilt._

 _“Are you sure?” she asked quietly, never looking away from Natalia’s face._

 _Natalia’s words of reassurance had been simple. “I love you, Olivia,” she said. “And I don’t want to wait anymore.”_

*** 

Olivia looked up as Natalia squeezed her hand.

“I should go. Blake is expecting me.”

“Okay.” Olivia released her hand somewhat reluctantly and watched as she stood, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Natalia’s smile as she nodded was brilliant, and Olivia hadn’t fully recovered from it when their waiter came a few minutes later to hand her the check.

She was pulling money out of her purse when Doris slid into the chair Natalia had just vacated.

“Did I just catch the two of you playing footsie under there?” Doris asked conversationally, glancing under the table as she took a sip of the drink in her hand.

“Doris,” Olivia said. She found herself amused - and annoyed - at how quickly the other woman had gotten comfortable at her table. “What can I do for you?”

Doris smiled. “I thought I might be able to help you.” When Olivia only stared at her, Doris looked pointedly in the direction of Natalia’s departure. “If you have any questions...”

“I’m fine.”

“If you change your mind-”

“I’ll let you know,” Olivia said, feeling pretty sure that it would never happen. She wondered if she should thank Doris, for trying, but then she really noticed the other woman’s expression. Despite the fact that her desire to help seemed genuine, Olivia thought Doris looked far too pleased with herself--as she leaned back in her chair, her smile seemed closer to a smirk. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Doris didn’t even try to deny it. “Did you forget about the blackmail, Olivia?” she asked. “I still owe you for that. And payback’s always-”

“A bitch?”

“You would know.”

“True,” Olivia said, fighting the urge to respond in kind. She had more important things to do than match wits with Doris. She should just let it go.

But she couldn’t. She stood up from her chair, waiting until she turned to leave before she rubbed the back of her neck, surreptitiously extending her middle finger.

She managed to take two steps away before Doris retaliated.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s an offer that might appeal more to your girlfriend.”

Olivia paused at the words, delivered in the driest of tones. She promised herself she wouldn’t look back, she wouldn’t turn around, she wouldn’t let Doris see--

She heard delighted laughter behind her. “Why, Ms. Spencer, are you _blushing_?”

Olivia glanced back at her then, glaring, but Doris seemed to take it in stride. Her next words were still amused, but also laced with unmistakable affection.

“Good luck, Olivia,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

*** 

Olivia parked her car in Natalia’s driveway. She checked her appearance in the rearview mirror, adjusted the collar of her shirt, then checked again.

Satisfied, she exited the car.

She felt comfortable in her clothes as she walked up the path to the house--jeans, a white button-up shirt, her favorite boots. It was an outfit she liked, and one that didn’t speak to any particular expectations. She hadn’t wanted Natalia to feel pressure tonight, so aside from her lingerie, she had dressed casually when she changed out of her suit this afternoon.

She had taken the time to pull her hair up in a clip the way Natalia liked it, and she was feeling generally confident as she headed in the direction of the kitchen entrance. She hoped she had arrived in enough time to help with dinner.

Her knock was half-hearted as she pushed the door open. It had been weeks since either she or Emma had waited for Natalia to answer a door before they entered the house.

Natalia wasn’t in the kitchen. Olivia could see that she had started dinner preparations - vegetables lay on a cutting board on the counter and the table was half-set - however, she clearly wasn’t close to being finished. Olivia felt something close to relief at the discovery. This would keep them busy for awhile.

She set the bottle of wine she had brought with her down on the table, put her purse on a chair, and headed into the living room. It was empty, too.

“Natalia?” she called out.

“I’m upstairs.”

Olivia went up the stairs, then made an educated guess and turned in the direction of Natalia’s bedroom.

Natalia was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. She offered Olivia a small smile.

“I started to make us something for dinner,” she said, “but then I thought...”

Olivia felt certain she knew what Natalia was trying to say, but she stayed silent and let her finish.

“I thought we could eat later,” Natalia admitted.

Despite her earlier feelings on the subject, Olivia found herself in complete agreement with the suggestion.

She didn’t have to worry all evening. It would happen. Finally.

She stood in place just long enough to pull the clip out of her hair and drop it on the bedside table, and then she moved to where Natalia sat on the edge of the bed. For a moment, she simply looked at her, before she reached out to touch her face.

It was reassuring, it was comforting - it was them - and when Natalia stood and kissed her, Olivia could feel her confidence. For the first time, Olivia didn’t check herself when she pulled Natalia closer. She let her hands rest where they felt comfortable, one hand cupping the side of Natalia’s face, the other pressed low, against the small of her back.

Natalia deepened the kiss, her hands moving to the buttons of Olivia’s shirt. Her fingers fumbled a little as she attempted to multitask, and for a few seconds she seemed to lose track of everything other than her goal as she undid the top button.

Olivia smiled against her mouth and kept kissing her, curious to see how many tries it would take her to manage them all, while distracted. It only took two, but Natalia looked at her reproachfully as she slid the shirt off her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Olivia said, trying to mean it.

“No, you’re not,” Natalia countered, drawing one of Olivia’s hands to the zipper of her dress. In a matter of seconds, they were working together to pull the garment over Natalia’s head.

As soon as Olivia had dropped it on the floor, she rested her hands against Natalia’s shoulders and allowed herself to step back and look at her. She could feel Natalia watching her, as she looked, and it made her a bit shy--but she looked anyway.

She began by focusing on where her hands rested, her thumbs brushing the black straps of Natalia’s bra. Slowly, she let one of her hands drift downwards, towards Natalia’s breasts.

She hadn’t been sure what it would be like, her first time being with a woman. She knew that she found Natalia beautiful - desirable - but she was so used to men. She knew how to be with them, she knew how to _please_ them, and she hadn’t been sure if that knowledge would carry over. However, right now it didn’t really seem to matter--she just wanted to touch her.

Olivia ran a finger along the lace edging of Natalia’s bra. It was very pretty, the way its pattern contrasted with the smoothness of her skin--

She looked up at Natalia’s soft laugh.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Olivia smiled at her. Apparently, it was a problem they had both shared. “It’s wonderful,” she informed her, loving Natalia’s quick intake of breath as she leaned down and momentarily let her mouth join the path her fingers had been taking.

When she she lifted her head again, neither of them were as composed as before, and Olivia knew she should finish this, so they could take each other to bed.

She took another step back, her gaze drifting downwards to take in the rest of her.

She caught a glimpse of more black lace before one of Natalia’s hands moved forward, quickly, instinctively, to cover the evidence of the incision from her surgery, her fingers spreading outwards in an attempt to hide the scar on her lower abdomen.

Olivia reached down and trapped Natalia’s hand under her own. “Hey,” she said gently. She used her free hand to grab Natalia’s other hand, the one that still hung by her side. She placed it on her own chest, over her transplant scar. “It’s okay.”

They stood like that for a minute, tracing each other’s scars, until Olivia leaned forward and kissed her.

*** 

Olivia looked down at the top of Natalia’s head, her breath catching at the sight of her own fingers threaded through Natalia’s dark hair. She bit her lip, trying to keep herself together. She managed, but it was difficult. The sight of Natalia - her touches - tentative at first, then growing more confident as Olivia responded to the feel of the caresses on her skin--

Olivia felt her hips press forward, again, and she knew that Natalia felt it, too.

They were lying together, partially entwined, in the center of Natalia’s bed. The moment they had finished undressing each other, Natalia had guided Olivia back onto the mattress, and she had been making love to her ever since. She had been gentle, but firm, in her wordless insistence. She was taking care of Olivia first.

With great care, she had mapped delicate paths across Olivia’s body with her hands, her mouth. She was thorough in her explorations, and Olivia had been surprised at what elicited the strongest of her own reactions--Natalia’s lips against her collarbone, Natalia’s fingertips brushing the underside of her breasts. It had been new - almost startling - and Olivia had occasionally felt the need to pull Natalia up her body so they could share the familiarity of another kiss.

Olivia did that now, as Natalia’s hand moved lower than before. She felt her body react, anticipating, as Natalia’s fingers followed the curve of her hip, turning inwards...

....and then stopping.

Natalia drew back from her, ending their kiss. “I’m not sure...”

“Me neither,” Olivia admitted. She knew about herself, of course. But that--

\--was exactly what they needed.

Olivia took Natalia’s hand from her body and brought it to her mouth. Holding Natalia’s gaze, she did what she had done so many times before--kissed her fingers. She was slow, methodical, in her attentions, her mouth lingering over a faded burn on the inside of Natalia’s thumb.

It was a good distraction, and when Olivia slid their hands back down her body, the tension between them felt right again. Their fingers brushed against her breasts, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, and then she was curving Natalia’s hand upwards, inwards, and helping her establish a rhythm, one that felt good, but still allowed her to appreciate the look of utter concentration on Natalia’s face--

Olivia drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes as Natalia shifted closer, moving the fingers inside her with greater insistency.

When Olivia opened her eyes again, Natalia smiled at her knowingly and leaned forward to kiss her. After that, Olivia didn’t notice anything other than the feel of it, the feel of _her_ , too immersed in sensation to be able to understand the quiet words Natalia whispered in time with the movements of her fingers. Repetition finally garnered her a certain awareness - _please, I love you, for me_ \- and she came, moaning softly, against Natalia’s hand, pressing her face into Natalia’s shoulder to muffle the sound.

For a long time they stayed like that, Natalia holding her as her breathing slowed. After awhile, she slowly shifted and Olivia could feel a hand stroking her hair.

Without raising her head, Olivia reached a hand upwards to lightly grip Natalia’s forearm. She felt Natalia’s hand still, then Natalia’s cheek brushed her cheek and Natalia’s lips touched her forehead.

Olivia looked up at her and was rewarded with a smile. She wasn’t sure which one of them looked more in awe of the other, but Natalia found her voice first.

“Thank you,” she said.

Olivia had difficulty processing the compliment. She felt as if Natalia had stolen her line. “What?” she asked, pulling back slightly.

“For this.” Natalia gestured between them. “For being here, with me. For trust-” she caught herself, then continued, almost smoothly, “For making me happy.”

Olivia couldn’t look away from her smile. “I love you,” she said. “And we’ll make this work.” She could tell that Natalia heard the unsaid, her promise, because her smile got even bigger.

“I think we already did,” Natalia said teasingly, and Olivia felt an echo of her body’s response from earlier as Natalia touched her face again. “Thank you for helping me figure it out.”

Olivia remembered the way Natalia had almost immediately changed the pace of her movements. “You didn’t really listen to me.”

“That’s because I know you.” Natalia glanced downwards, her gaze possessive. “And I knew what I wanted.”

Olivia wondered if Natalia would ever stop surprising her. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Natalia tilted her head forward until their lips barely touched. When Olivia leaned into the contact, Natalia’s mouth pressed against hers, soft and sweetly inviting. As the kiss intensified, Olivia shifted forward, closing the distance between them. She shut her eyes at the feel of Natalia’s body against her own and heard Natalia sigh. “You are so passionate,” she murmured, and Olivia recognized the need in her voice.

“Wait,” Olivia said, opening her eyes before Natalia could distract her again.

She gently extricated herself from their embrace and sat up. She looked down at Natalia, studying her, then slid back on the bed until her shoulders rested against the headboard. Once she was settled, she reached out a hand in invitation.

Without a word, Natalia joined her. She followed the direction of Olivia’s hands, until she was settled in Olivia’s lap, a thigh on either side of Olivia’s hips, her knees pressing into the bed.

When her hands came to rest on Olivia’s shoulders, Olivia looked up into her face, and, at the same time, they smiled.

Natalia kissed her then, but even as they pulled each other closer, Olivia couldn’t quite believe it--she was holding Natalia in her arms. She would finally get to love her the way she had wanted to for so long, with every part of herself and nothing between them. She knew the value of this type of love, the pleasure of it, and she offered it to Natalia now as she began to touch her.

She had chosen this position for its intimacy, its access, and she used both to her advantage. She barely had to lean forward and her mouth was caressing Natalia’s skin, her lips tracing the curve of a breast, while her hands moved lower, touching here, then there, learning the shape of Natalia’s hips as they pressed against her hands, wanting to learn the rest of her...

Focusing on Natalia’s face, Olivia slid a hand up her thigh.

Natalia made a small noise and pushed her hips forward, her hands tensing on Olivia’s shoulders.

Olivia could see the last of Natalia’s earlier nervousness in her expression, feel it in the grip of her fingers, and she reached up with her other hand to pull Natalia’s head down towards her own. Natalia started to kiss her, but Olivia wouldn’t allow it. She let her lips graze Natalia’s cheeks, then her mouth, but refused to give her the satisfaction of sustained contact.

At last, with a sigh of frustration, Natalia captured her mouth.

Olivia waited until Natalia relaxed into the kiss, then slid the hand on her thigh further upwards--and touched her.

Natalia stilled, and Olivia could feel the shift in her attention, the way her body reacted to the touch. She could feel Natalia’s breath on her lips, could hear Natalia’s soft gasp as she continued to touch her, fingers pressing against her--then inside her.

Olivia felt her own breath catch as she realized that Natalia had glanced down, trying to see the movements of her hand. The next time she looked back up, Olivia held her gaze and carefully slid another finger inside her, wanting her to feel the fullness of it, as she made love to her, wanting her to know what it was like, the slightest of burns.

For a moment, Natalia’s hands gripped her shoulders again, and then she loosened her hold, her eyes closing in pleasure as Olivia’s fingers started to move.

“Look at me,” Olivia said softly, wanting to watch her, and her reactions.

Natalia slowly opened her eyes and complied, and they looked at each other as Olivia concentrated on matching her movements to the needs of Natalia’s body.

Olivia could tell when it became too much for Natalia, because she felt it with her. She cupped Natalia’s face in her hand, ran a finger along her cheek. _Stay with me._

Still looking at Natalia’s face, Olivia shifted the fingers inside her...then tried changing the angle of her thumb.

Natalia shuddered, her short, quiet breaths the only sound between them as she came, and Olivia felt an ache inside herself, watching her, as Natalia did her best to follow the earlier directive, never once looking away.

As the movements of Natalia’s hips slowed, she finally looked down, her hair falling across her face. Rather than brush it back, Olivia gave her a minute. She ran a hand up and down her back, reassuring her, soothing her. She felt a little ashamed of herself as she found that she had to resist the urge to draw her closer, already wanting her all over again.

She studied her, hesitating. She knew Natalia wasn’t ready for more, just yet, but she really wanted...

Continuing to stroke Natalia’s back, Olivia eased her other hand from its position between Natalia’s thighs and brought it to her mouth. She pressed the tips of her first two fingers against her lips--

\--and felt Natalia tense against her.

Olivia looked up to find Natalia watching her and let her hand drop.

“Natalia,” she said, “I-”

Before she could explain further, Natalia was kissing her, the force of it pushing her back into the headboard. Olivia kissed her back, responding to her enthusiasm, not stopping until they were both breathless and she was supporting Natalia’s body with her own. She could feel the effort it took, for Natalia to sit up.

“I love you,” Natalia said, staring down into her face.

Olivia drew Natalia back into her arms, leaning forward slightly so they could rest their heads on each other’s shoulders. “I love you too."

***

**Purple**

 _“I choose you too.”_

 **Side 2**

 

Natalia woke up smiling.

Olivia was in her bed, curled against her back.

She had finally gotten what she wanted. And despite everything that had made the wait so long, so difficult...

She felt her smile grow. It had been worth it.

She wasn’t really surprised by the revelation. That Olivia herself was worth it - _all_ of it - hadn’t been one of her doubts. She had known it would feel good to lie next to her, be close to her, and she hadn’t been wrong. Even as Olivia slept, Natalia could feel it - that closeness - and she had to fight the urge to turn and look at her. She _loved_ doing that, simply looking, but she didn’t want to take the chance of waking her just yet, at least not for her own satisfaction.

She looked at her own hands instead, at where they lay on her sheets. She could still see them, the way they had looked last night, as they rested on Olivia’s body. She could still feel the strength of Olivia’s reaction to them, as they moved across her skin. And holding her, after, had been...

Once again, Natalia had to fight the urge to turn towards her.

She had felt so happy. Happy, and a little bit proud. She had been worried, but they had managed it. They had figured it out, together.

And that had been worth it, too.

She had been so nervous. Not only about the physical part of it, but about the entire evening...including the time before they went to bed. Since the spa trip, it hadn’t been a secret between them that fighting was the easiest option when they were feeling uncertain. They had no trouble finding reasons to argue with each other, and they had never really held back--until recently.

Now, they were more careful, aware of the kinds of reminders such exchanges could bring with them. But they still made mistakes, and she hadn’t wanted to make a mistake, last night.

The dinner that had ended so badly after Olivia talked with Frank had been the exception. Usually, they caught it early, like lunch yesterday - a touch, a quick apology, and then it was over - but that one time had been enough. Watching Olivia pull away, silent, untouchable, had been very painful. They had talked their way through it and, if they needed to, they’d do it again, but she really hadn’t wanted anything like it to happen last night. She didn’t want to have to try again. She wanted to get it right the first time.

She’d meant what she said to Olivia. She hadn’t wanted to wait anymore.

The way that Olivia looked at her during their lunch yesterday had made her feel confident - she had thought Olivia would like that dress - but by the time she got back to the farmhouse she had been feeling the weight of her anticipation. She started cooking dinner, assuming that the routine of it would help her relax...but it hadn’t.

She’d gone upstairs to go to the bathroom, thinking that she might need to do a few personal touch-ups, run a brush through her hair. She had, but then, instead of going back downstairs, she had walked into her room and sat down on the bed.

At first she thought she’d get up again, but the longer she stayed there, the more she realized that she didn’t want to go back downstairs. If she went back down where there were ready distractions, she might not be able to say what she wanted...

Then Olivia had come upstairs, and her lack of hesitation as she undid her hair and moved towards the bed told Natalia that they would have made it to her room at some point that night, regardless of whether or not dinner had been a success.

Not that she would ever regret skipping it.

As they started undressing, Natalia could already see the differences in their experiences--and their expectations. Olivia was utterly unselfconscious in her nudity. She took it for granted, and Natalia tried to follow her lead. She had thought they would at least draw back the sheets before they removed the last of their clothing, but Olivia wouldn’t let herself be coaxed into bed until they had completely finished undressing.

Natalia had never made love like that, without being partially covered by something - clothing, someone else’s body, the drape of a blanket, or a sheet - but, rather than embarrassing her, she found that it made her feel safe. Accepted.

Olivia could see all of her, and still wanted her--made her feel beautiful.

When Olivia finally held her, completely uncovered, Natalia knew she had nothing left to hide. It was what allowed her to give Olivia what she wanted; it was what allowed her to keep looking at Olivia even when it would have been so much easier to look away.

Later, when they finally lifted their heads off each other’s shoulders, and Olivia started touching her again, Natalia had sat up in her arms and touched her in return. It had been a bit awkward and nowhere near perfect - they kept getting distracted by each other’s fingers - but Natalia had loved the intimacy of it, as they shifted against one another. As their breathing changed, Natalia had cupped the back of Olivia’s head and kissed her--and the press of her hand was all that saved Olivia’s head from jerking back into the headboard when they started moving their hips in time with their fingers. Natalia thought Olivia had laughed, but it was hard to be sure--they had mostly figured the rest of it out by then...

They slid down on the bed, afterwards, and Olivia had pulled a sheet up to cover them. Natalia felt tired by then - she hadn’t known how tense she had been the last few weeks until now, when it was gone - but not too tired to smile at the gesture.

They had lain there together, facing each other and talking quietly until well into the night, not really touching other than where Olivia’s hand rested on her own. Natalia had drifted off somewhere in the middle of a discussion of their summer plans. She had opened her eyes again, later, to find Olivia watching her, but when she started to say something, an explanation, an apology, Olivia had only pulled her closer. The warmth of Olivia’s body, the feel of the hand stroking her hair had defeated Natalia’s attempts to stay awake, and she had slept undisturbed until this morning.

Natalia kept her body as still as possible and glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman curled against her. It seemed that Olivia had slept well, too. Natalia knew she might not wake up for awhile yet--she was such a late sleeper when she didn’t have to get out of bed.

Natalia wondered if she could finish making breakfast before Olivia woke up. She hadn’t gotten to cook for her last night, and maybe if she moved very carefully...

As she eased towards the edge of the bed, she felt Olivia’s arm slip around her waist. She wondered if it was a conscious movement or if Olivia had just reached out in her sleep--

“Where are you going?”

So much for surprising her.

Natalia touched the hand at her waist and smiled. “To make breakfast.”

Olivia’s arm tightened around her. “We can do that later.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Natalia asked, already knowing the answer. Olivia had mentioned food during their conversation last night--she had to be hungry by now.

“Yes,” Olivia said, her cheek soft against Natalia’s shoulder.

Although she knew she was delaying her progress out of bed, Natalia took Olivia’s hand from her body and brought it up to her mouth. She ignored the way the sheet slipped downwards as she tilted her head and kissed Olivia’s fingers. “Okay,” she said as she lowered their hands. “You can sleep, and I can make coffee-”

“That sounds good,” Olivia said, and Natalia felt her hair being brushed aside. She closed her eyes as Olivia kissed the back of her neck.

She could feel Olivia’s smile against her skin.

“Olivia,” she said, opening her eyes, exasperated. Before she could get any further, Olivia’s mouth started tracing the path of her spine, and Natalia reacted without thought, her back arching into the touch. She glanced over her shoulder again. “That’s not helping.”

“You’re still here,” Olivia said, and her tone was so smug that Natalia had to laugh. She knew then that Olivia had lost sight of the original goal--if she’d ever been paying attention at all.

“Fine, I’ll stay,” Natalia said, turning to face her. “But you’re making the coffee this morning.”

Olivia smiled, clearly enjoying the win. “I make the coffee sometimes,” she said. When Natalia only looked at her, Olivia’s smile became slightly guilty and she leaned forward to rest her face against Natalia’s shoulder. “I do,” she muttered, and Natalia laughed again.

When Olivia looked up, Natalia reached out to cradle her face. They studied each other for a minute, and then kissed, their movements unhurried, slow. After they finally separated, Natalia watched Olivia’s gaze moved down her body before returning to her face.

Olivia’s look was searching as she lifted a hand to rest on Natalia’s hip, her fingers playing with the edge of the sheet in an unspoken request.

Natalia didn’t answer her right away. She couldn’t. After all the confidence Olivia had shown the night before, Natalia hadn’t expected the uncertainty she could see in her expression right now. Her movements were almost tentative.

Natalia didn’t understand all the reasons for it, but she kissed Olivia, gently, and then put her hand over Olivia’s hand, helping her push down the sheet.

She flushed a little as Olivia looked at her, still not accustomed to so much attention. Needing a break from the intensity, she reached out towards her--only to have Olivia catch her hand. Natalia recognized her stubbornness and sighed. Such greediness. She wondered if she’d always have to fight for her turn.

Natalia saw Olivia’s surprise when her response was to move even closer. One sharp tug, a twist, and she had pulled Olivia on top of her. She hadn’t prepared herself for how good it would feel - the solid presence of her, the weight of her - and she couldn’t hold back a small moan as she ran a hand down her back.

Olivia pushed herself up at the sound, and Natalia could see she was ready to slide off her--but then she smiled, seeming to recognize the nature of the reaction...

Natalia breathed in sharply as Olivia pressed a thigh between her legs.

“Is that what you wanted, Natalia?” Olivia asked teasingly, and Natalia didn’t know if the upwards shift of her own hips could be attributed to the feel of her or to the adoration in her smile. Olivia made her feel so _wanted_.

“Yes. That,” Natalia said, looking up at her. She slid her hands down to Olivia’s hips, shifting her, realigning their bodies, and then pushed her own leg upwards, reciprocating Olivia’s gesture. “And this.”

Olivia’s eyes closed for a moment. “Clever,” she said appreciatively.

“It was your idea,” Natalia reminded her.

“I know.”

“You-” Natalia began, only to be interrupted by another press of Olivia’s thigh. “That’s not fair,” she said when she had caught her breath.

It was clear from her expression that Olivia knew that, too.

Natalia shook her head, but rather than protesting further, she pulled Olivia down for a kiss--and pushed her leg upwards.

***

“That’s not right.”

“What?” Olivia looked down at the griddle and frowned. “Yes, it is.”

Natalia put the juice back in the fridge and joined Olivia at the stove. “No, it’s not.”

Olivia looked as insulted now as she had when Natalia commented earlier. “I do know how to do this, you know. I've been professionally trained.”

“Then you should know how to take instruction in a kitchen.” Natalia examined the pancakes more closely. Evenly-spaced and golden-brown, she was sure they were technically perfect. “I know how you like them, and that’s not it.”

“I...”

Natalia turned away to hide a smile as she realized that she had made Olivia speechless. She knew it was bad, but she found she was enjoying this argument. “Don’t let them burn,” she said over her shoulder as she reached up to pull two mugs out of the cupboard.

Out of the corner of her vision, Natalia could see Olivia gesture, but she purposely ignored it. She walked over to the coffee pot and poured them each a cup of the coffee she had made. Despite their earlier exchange, she had still been the one to make it--but she had done it because Olivia had insisted on cooking the meal. Natalia had gotten everything started - put together a batter, laid out bacon - only to find herself nudged aside as Olivia took over the stove. Natalia hadn’t fought her for the position--she’d just moved out of her way and started setting the table.

However, she hadn’t been able to resist watching Olivia cook, and maybe she had stayed a little too involved.

She picked up the mugs and turned to see Olivia putting plates of food on the table. Natalia smiled as Olivia shifted the place settings, lessening the distance between them, then moved the chairs so they would be sitting next to each other.

Natalia walked over to table and Olivia took one of the cups from her. When they sat down together, their shoulders practically touched.

Olivia reached out to take her hand.

“For what we are about to eat, we give thanks,” Natalia said quietly, squeezing Olivia’s hand to let her know that appreciation was being directed her way as well.

Natalia knew that Olivia understood the gesture because her smile got even bigger. She looked very pleased with herself as they started to eat. Her expression changed a few bites into the meal, and Natalia knew she’d just won their earlier argument--but she didn’t say a single word.

They ate in a comfortable silence, and Natalia felt grateful to be able to concentrate on her food. She hadn’t realized she was this hungry. Still, she couldn’t help stealing glances at Olivia from time-to-time and, after the third or fourth time, she caught Olivia glancing back at her. For a second, they looked at each other, amused, and then Natalia started laughing.

“We’re so sad,” she said, and Olivia nodded her agreement.

“I don’t think we would have made it through dinner last night.”

Natalia looked at the bottle of wine still sitting on the table. It was one of their favorites. “We’ll have to try it again sometime.”

Olivia smiled ruefully. “I should have just brought champagne.”

Natalia thought about the toast they had never gotten to finish last year. She would have really liked to do that today. Though she supposed they could make do...

She picked up Olivia’s juice glass. “I know it’s not what you were thinking...”

Olivia reached out and wrapped her hand around the glass, her palm resting on Natalia’s fingers. “It works,” she said, as they guided the glass to her mouth.

Olivia looked at her over the edge of the glass the entire time she drank, and Natalia couldn’t believe the difference, from before, in how that look affected her. It made her think about last night - this morning - and it made her...

By the time they put the glass down, she felt flustered. She turned to the distraction of her food, but she had barely started eating again when she felt Olivia’s hand on her face.

“How do you always...?” Olivia asked, trailing off as she carefully wiped syrup from the corner of Natalia’s upper lip. After she finished, she brought her hand back to her own mouth.

Natalia watched, absorbed, as Olivia licked the syrup from her fingers.

Olivia didn’t miss her reaction. She stopped what she was doing to stare at her. “That really worked for you,” she said, a hint of wonder in her voice. Her expression became considering, and she smiled. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Natalia felt her cheeks heat at the promise in those words. She looked back down at her breakfast, trying not to think about what Olivia might have planned for them.

Her attention shifted as Olivia moved a hand to cover one of her own. The sight of their hands like that always made her happy, but this time, as her gaze traveled up their wrists, she found herself more pleased than usual. It must have showed in her expression because when Olivia spoke, she sounded embarrassed.

“Oh, stop it,” she said.

Natalia didn’t think that either of them could quite believe that she’d had to lend Olivia a robe. It wasn’t that Olivia didn’t look good in it - she did - even if the sleeves didn’t go all the way down to her wrists. But it meant she had forgotten to bring one herself, and it wasn’t all that she had forgotten.

She hadn’t even brought a change of clothes.

“You knew you were spending the night,” Natalia said, defending her reaction.

“I’m used to having my things here.” Olivia said. She tugged at the sleeves of the robe, then shrugged, accepting the lack. “I’ll leave some here next time.”

Natalia loved her surety. _Next time_. Not a question.

She watched as Olivia leaned back in her chair, coffee cup in hand, studying the room. She wondered if she should ask her now...

“You were right, you know,” Olivia said. “I do like your kitchen.”

Natalia decided that now sounded like a good idea. “It can be your kitchen too.”

Olivia paused mid-sip of coffee, then lowered the cup. “What?”

“Move back in with me,” Natalia said. It wasn’t really a question, and she thought Olivia looked impressed.

“I knew last night was good,” Olivia said, “but I-”

Natalia felt certain it was better not to let her finish that sentence. “Say yes.”

“Natalia-”

“Say _yes_.”

Olivia was silent, looking at her, and Natalia realized that both of them already knew the answer. Satisfied, she reached over and rested a hand on Olivia’s thigh.

At the gesture, Olivia’s lips curved upwards into a slow smile. “What if I say I need some time and space?” she asked.

Natalia didn’t think it was very funny, but she kissed her anyway, not stopping until Olivia tried to pull her closer. She drew away then, sitting back in her chair and showing great interest in the remainder of her food.

She could feel Olivia staring at her. “What...?”

“I’m giving you what you want,” Natalia said. “Time.” She scooted her chair further away. “And space.”

It was Olivia’s turn to look unamused. “Screw time and space,” she said impatiently, leaning towards Natalia and pulling her into another kiss.

***


	8. Chapter 8

**Prism**

 _“I never thought I could have anything like this. I certainly didn’t do anything to deserve this.”  
“That’s not true. Everything about you is alive and passionate. You make me so happy.”  
“I do?”   
“You know you do.”_

~*~

“You’re home early,” Natalia said as Olivia walked into the nursery.

Olivia waited for Natalia to finish putting Francesca in her crib before she moved forward to greet her more fully. Natalia smiled as she stepped into Olivia’s embrace, tilting her face upwards so that Olivia could lightly kiss her mouth.

“I thought you might like some help,” Olivia said, the comment earning her a smile and a soft laugh, both tinged with relief.

“I would love that,” Natalia said. She glanced towards the door, and Olivia could tell that she was picturing the rest of the house. “It’s such a mess...”

Olivia knew the truth of that description all too well. She had come close to tripping on boxes twice in the short time it had taken her to put her things down in their bedroom. She had felt herself relax when she found Natalia in the nursery. In here, with Francesca sleeping, they could stand next to each other and enjoy the illusion that the move-in was completed. They could pretend that everything was in order and that their afternoon together could be peaceful. Quiet.

Not that they could deceive themselves for long. This was the only room in the house without boxes--and Francesca was a very vocal child.

Olivia hadn’t thought the move would be this hectic. Last time, aside from the arguing, unpacking had been accomplished with remarkable efficiency. Natalia had been responsible for most of that, it was true, but Olivia had thought the process would only go faster with both of them working together.

And it had started out like she predicted. With Natalia already settled, they only had to worry about packing up one of them. Olivia had decided to bring things from storage as well as from her suite, but hiring a crew of movers had simplified everything. All she’d had to do was call, and they had her packed up and inside the farmhouse within the space of a day.

But the unpacking...she and Natalia were still working on that.

It was harder this time. Their attention was divided in too many directions. They hadn’t had a baby, before, or Emma’s summer schedule - the camp days and the dance classes, the library hours, the play-dates - all of which complicated their commutes. And then there was Olivia’s work schedule--some days she couldn’t get away early enough for them to get much done in the evenings.

Natalia had ended up doing some of the unpacking on her own, and Olivia couldn’t have been more grateful. With Natalia’s help, Emma’s room had been cleared of all but a few boxes. But even though Blake had been allowing Natalia to work from home for the last week, she was still limited in what she could accomplish, especially since she had started to prepare for Rafe’s visit next month.

Olivia had been surprised to hear that he planned to come home for his leave - he knew about the move-in - and she thought that Natalia had felt surprise, too. So far Natalia’s strongest visible reaction to the news had been her determination to make sure that Rafe felt welcomed back into his house. It was a goal that required even _more_ unpacking--up until last week most of Rafe’s belongings had been at Frank’s

Natalia had been working on Rafe’s room ever since Frank dropped everything off to them, and, slowly, between that and the rest of the house, the empty boxes had started to pile up.

It just wasn’t happening fast enough for either of them. They wanted to be done.

Emma was the only one in the house who seemed immune to any of the frustrations associated with the move. She was finally living where she wanted, and that was all that mattered to her. She liked the boxes, played guessing games with them. If asked, she would happily search through them, and Olivia had made use of that willingness a few times the first day or so of unpacking, particularly if she thought of something she didn’t want to forget while she was busy with Francesca.

And as much as Olivia and Natalia liked seeing empty boxes, Emma liked them even more. Late one afternoon, Olivia came home to find a fort in their living room...though, to her daughter’s dismay, Olivia had been impressed by her creation only after its destruction. Emma’s lookout system had involved the stairs, and she had misjudged distances, building too close to the door. The mistake had been discovered when Olivia entered the living room--two steps inside, and boxes had tumbled, Emma had protested, and Natalia had come out of the kitchen to investigate the noise of it all.

Natalia’s expression had been a study in innocence as she walked into the living room, but Olivia had been convinced she’d heard laughter from the kitchen. She had asked Natalia about it later, when they should have been unpacking, and both of them had gotten distracted by her chosen method of questioning.

That was another one of their problems. It didn’t take very much to distract them.

Like right now. They should be unpacking, but neither of them seemed in any hurry to move from their present position, standing next to each other, watching Francesca sleep.

Olivia kept a hand on Natalia’s hip as she turned to face the crib. She hadn’t entirely adjusted yet to being able to see this daughter everyday. She used every excuse possible to take care of her--there had already been a few times when Natalia had tried to argue her out of getting out of bed for nighttime feedings...

“She really is beautiful,” Olivia said.

“She is.” Natalia moved her hand to cover Olivia’s hand where it rested on her hip. She looked down into the crib, considering. “I think she has your eyes.”

Olivia smiled. She had come to appreciate Natalia’s ability to keep a straight face when making a joke. “Honey,” she said, “I might have figured out how you keep getting pregnant.”

Natalia’s face became readable again, and she didn’t look very impressed. “You think you’re so funny,” she said.

“I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Oh, you’re helpful-”

“Hey,” Olivia said, interrupting what was sure to be a tirade, “if you don’t want to hear about it from me, there’s always Doris. She seems eager to talk to people lately.”

“Doris? What does she have to do with...?” Natalia paused as Olivia moved two of the fingers resting against her hipbone. “You mean...?” At Olivia’s nod, Natalia’s expression became incredulous. “ _Doris_?”

Francesca stirred at the exclamation, and Natalia lowered her voice. “You talked about us...like _that_...with the mayor?”

“Well, I didn’t do any of the talking.” When Natalia didn’t respond to the quip, Olivia wondered if she had taken it too far. She thought now might be a good time to explain. “Natalia-”

“I can't believe you…” Natalia absently brushed at her face, and Olivia didn’t know whether or not she should--

Natalia tilted her head to the side and glanced up at her. “What did she say?”

Olivia had a hard time keeping her laughter quiet. God, she loved her.

“I didn’t let her get very far.” For the second time in the conversation, Olivia found herself surprised by Natalia’s reaction. She hadn’t expected disappointment. “I could make something up...”

Natalia glanced over at her again. “You are good at that.”

Olivia wasn’t sure at first whether she had been complimented or insulted, but when Natalia turned towards her and initiated a kiss, it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was all the encouragement she needed to take Natalia’s hand and lead her down the hallway to the bedroom they now shared.

As soon as they walked into their room, Natalia started kissing her again, and Olivia kissed her back, not bothering with the door. Leaving it open would only make it easier to hear Francesca if she cried--though right now Olivia found herself hoping to have a stretch of time to focus on the woman in front of her--the woman whose hands were already...

Olivia caught Natalia’s hands in her own and started backing her across the room. They didn’t stop kissing each other as they made their way towards the bed, and it made skirting boxes difficult...they didn’t quite succeed. Olivia was still laughing about the collision - and their respective forms of commentary - as she pulled Natalia’s shirt over her head.

Olivia’s movements slowed then, became more deliberate. She slid Natalia’s bra straps down her arms, then leaned in to kiss her shoulders. She could feel Natalia react to the caress...and she could also feel her distraction.

“We’re not getting anything done,” Natalia murmured. The observation was made with obvious reluctance, and she made no attempt to pull away, but Olivia looked up at her, regardless.

What she saw confirmed what she had suspected. Natalia had a strong sense of responsibility, and usually Olivia would oblige it - her work ethic - but with their schedules they didn’t have much time, and it had been two days...

“I always knew you didn’t like to have fun,” Olivia said, her words a provocation. She knew that Natalia wouldn’t be able to resist...

As she waited for the response, Olivia unfastened the back of Natalia’s bra.

“You said you were going to be helpful.” Natalia’s reproach was undercut by her actions as she moved her arms forward, helping Olivia slide the garment off her. “And I like to have fun,” she added.

Olivia hid a smile at the assertion. She rarely got to see Natalia pout. “So you’re not changing your mind?” she asked. She’d been holding the bra between them, but now she dropped it and pulled Natalia closer. She let her hands explore Natalia’s back, loving the softness of her skin.

“Never,” Natalia said, and Olivia looked up her tone. “I’ve always wanted this.”

Olivia’s arms tightened around her. “No, you didn’t,” she said.

“I-” Natalia began, then studied Olivia’s face. “I do now.”

Olivia leaned forward to rest her cheek against the side of Natalia’s head. She left one hand low, on Natalia’s back, and raised the other to stroke her hair. “I know,” she said, giving herself a minute.

When she drew back from the embrace, Natalia was watching her, waiting, and Olivia loved her for it. She touched Natalia’s face, fingers barely making contact, then moved her hands to Natalia’s waist. Stepping forward, Olivia eased her back until she was sitting on the bed.

As Olivia started to pull away, Natalia reached out for one of her hands, and Olivia felt the pressure on her fingers increase as she knelt down by the bed.

She had been planning to take off Natalia’s shoes, but now, aware of Natalia’s heightened attention, Olivia found herself wanting to hold her again. She gave in to the urge and wrapped her arms around Natalia’s waist, shifting forward to rest her head against Natalia’s chest.

She felt Natalia’s fingers in her hair, and looked up just in time to see it--that small, secretive smile. Before Olivia could fully appreciate it, Natalia lowered her head, her hair a soft fall around them as she kissed Olivia where she knelt.

~*~

Natalia stood and piled the last of the empty boxes in the corner of Emma’s room.

She smiled, enjoying the feeling of accomplishment. The house might still be a mess, but at least she had one room finished. And, if all went well, she might finish another one today. Frank and Blake had taken Francesca for a few days, and though Natalia missed her, she was thankful for the extra hours she had to work and to sleep...and to spend with Olivia. Both of them had appreciated not having to get out of bed last night.

And she had been happy to have a day alone with Emma, even if they both had work to do. Until today, they hadn’t spent more than a few hours together, just the two of them, since before Francesca’s birth. Natalia still couldn’t believe how sweet Emma had been about it during her visits--even when Natalia couldn’t get Francesca to nap, Emma had never complained.

“I found them,” Emma said as she came back into her room.

Natalia walked over to her and took some of the books from her arms. She hadn’t realized there would be so many of them, or she would have gone with Emma on her search to help her carry them.

“They got put in with your Mom’s books, didn’t they?” Natalia guessed.

Emma nodded, and Natalia thought it was cute, how proud she looked of herself.

Natalia followed Emma to the bookcase by the bed and they sat down together, stacking the books on the floor.

As they settled themselves, Emma turned to look at the far wall, then looked back, excited. “You finished the boxes!” she said.

“I did,” Natalia said, smiling at her. She nodded in the direction of Emma’s bed. “I put your dolls over there, but we can move them.”

Natalia watched as Emma examined the row of dolls lined up in front of her pillows. “I like them there,” she said, resting her head against Natalia’s side. When Natalia put an arm around her, she looked up again. “Are we done?”

Natalia tapped one of the stacks of books in front of them. “Almost.”

Emma leaned forward and started sorting the books. Natalia didn’t try to help her with that - Emma had her own system - but she did reach up into the bookcase to straighten a few of the books that had fallen, trying to make some extra room.

She lowered her arm as Emma moved closer to the bookcase and started putting some of the books away.

“When I’m finished can we go to the park?” Emma asked as she reached down to pick up more books.

Natalia hesitated. She would love to take Emma to the park, and they hadn’t been in a very long time. But Emma had lots of activities planned this week - she had camp again tomorrow and then a sleepover at Jodie’s - and Olivia had specifically asked...

“Didn’t your mom say we needed to make sure you work on your reading list today?” Natalia asked, feeling certain that Emma knew about the request. Olivia rarely asked her to enforce a rule or a chore that Emma might not like without warning Emma about it first.

“Yeah.” Emma paused, book in hand, and considered her. “Do you listen to everything my Mom says?”

Emma had witnessed enough arguments that the question surprised Natalia. She took a moment, fixing the band in Emma’s hair as she thought about how to answer her. She could tell Emma that it was different, with grown-ups...but she wanted her to understand.

She decided to keep it simple. “Your mom and I listen to each other.”

“Like about moving back in here?” Emma asked. Before Natalia could respond, Emma shook her head. “Because she didn’t listen to me.”

Natalia tried to hide her dismay. It was clear where Emma still placed the blame for all the months apart--and Natalia couldn’t let Olivia continue to protect her like that. Emma needed to know that they both made mistakes.

“Emma...” Natalia said. She wondered how much she should tell her without discussing it with Olivia first. “Your mom and I love each other-” Natalia felt an echo of her earlier relief at Emma’s matter-of-fact nod. It had been unexpectedly easy, explaining it to her. “But we wanted to make sure that things would work out, before you moved back in. You don’t want to have to move again-” Natalia stopped at Emma’s vigorous head shake. “No more moving?”

“No,” Emma said firmly. “No more moving.” She placed two more books on her bookshelf, then showed Natalia her empty hands.

“That’s it?” Natalia asked her.

“Yes.”

“Then I think we’re done.” Natalia bumped their shoulders together as she finished the declaration, and Emma giggled, then mimicked the action.

They were still grinning at each other as Natalia helped Emma to stand, and she nearly forgot that they had one more thing to clean-up.

Emma reminded her. Once they were both standing, she took Natalia’s hand and pulled her over to the pile of empty boxes.

“Are you going to do Rafe’s room now?” Emma asked as they started picking the boxes up. When Natalia nodded, Emma eyed her hopefully. “Can I help?”

The offer seemed sweet - _was_ sweet - but Natalia was not fooled. “You really don’t want to study today,” she said, and Emma’s reaction to being found out only increased her desire to laugh. She knew that guilty look.

“Do I have to?” Emma asked.

Natalia would have hugged her, but both of them had their hands full. “Yes,” she said. “But why don’t we get your books and a snack and you can sit in Rafe’s room while you work and keep me company?”

Emma appeared satisfied with the compromise. Without another word of protest, she adjusted the boxes in her arms and moved in the direction of the door.

Natalia glanced around the room one last time, checking their work, then picked up the last of the boxes and followed Emma out of the room.

~*~

Olivia lowered herself into her chair and set her lunch down on her desk. For a second, she sat there, motionless, hoping to ease the strength of her headache.

She had taken something for it, before her meeting, but she had yet to feel any effect. It had started in the middle of the night, and she probably shouldn’t have waited to deal with it. But Francesca had been crying - teething now, in earnest - and then Emma had been running late. Natalia had called Jane, but she’d been busy...and so Olivia had ended up being late as well.

She had arrived at the Beacon just in time for her meeting, and in some ways the pain had been beneficial--it had given her that edge. She had successfully negotiated an agreement with the new caterer, one very advantageous to the hotel, but her head ached too much for her to properly savor the victory.

And she didn’t know how she was going to keep her promise to Natalia, to be home early tonight. She had a staff meeting this afternoon that she couldn’t miss, and there simply wasn’t enough time...

She reached out and touched the paper sack in front of her. There had been no time this morning, and she didn’t understand how Natalia had managed to pack her a lunch. Francesca’s crying, Emma’s missing shirt, getting everyone ready--Olivia had barely had time to shower and dress herself. She hadn’t been thinking about breakfast, and she certainly hadn’t considered lunch.

But when she stepped outside the house, Natalia had called out to her. As she turned to answer - realizing, then, that she had forgotten their kiss good-bye - Natalia had pushed the lunch into her hands and kissed her. Natalia’s hair had still been damp as it brushed her cheek, and between that and the lunch in her hands, it had taken a moment for Olivia to respond. When she did, she chose to ignore their time constraints, and Natalia had looked very flushed - and a bit smug - as she finally pulled away.

It was the only time all morning Olivia had forgotten about her headache, although she thought the pain medication had started to take effect. She could focus again, which meant she should try to catch-up on her paperwork.

She looked at the lunch one more time. She hadn’t opened the bag, but she guessed that its contents would be simple: a sandwich, maybe some of the cookies they had baked together over the weekend. It didn’t really matter--

Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her purse. She checked the number and smiled. Sam.

She opened the conversation with a warning. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “I don’t have long to talk.”

“Ouch. I get the brush-off before you even say hello.”

“Sam...” She wished she had more time. They had been better about staying in contact, but they still didn’t talk all that often.

“I’m joking, Olivia. Never apologize for being upfront. You know I appreciate that.”

She did know that, but as she considered when she might be able to tell him, upfront, that she had unlimited time to talk, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Well,” she said, “you’ll have to keep appreciating it, at least until this move is over-”

“Are you still going ahead with with that?”

“Of course I am,” Olivia said. She thought she had made that clear in their last conversation, but Sam’s impatience, the way he interrupted her, let her know he had been hoping she would wait. “We love each other...” she tried to think of what else she could say to make him understand that this time it really was different, something she hadn’t said the last time they had spoken...

Olivia looked at the paper sack in front of her. “She packed me a lunch.”

“I can see how that would fix everything.”

“ _Sam_ -”

“I get it, Liv. You’ve told me.”

And she could tell he still wasn’t pleased about it. Even with everything they had discussed...

She found that she wasn’t surprised. If the situation had been reversed, she probably would have felt the same way. “It's already done,” she informed him. She let her voice soften. “Can't you be happy for me?”

“I am happy for you,” he said reluctantly. “Look,” he said, after a pause, “I can’t forget what she did to you, but-”

“We talked about that-”

“- _but_ I’m a reasonable individual.”

“Since when?”

“Since you convinced me to give up my bike.”

It took Olivia a few seconds to realize that he was serious. She hadn’t known that their conversation about Natalia’s involvement with Gus - with her heart - had affected him that way.

“I’m not insensible to the fact that she’s the reason you’re still here, talking to me,” he continued, and he sounded so serious that Olivia considered interrupting him, easing the mood, but he beat her to it. “And she got that you’re a romantic, I’ll give her that.”

Olivia looked down at the paper sack in front of her as she smiled. She had known Sam would appreciate the significance of Natalia’s gift--would understand what it meant to her. He had been the only one she told, and she hadn’t regretted it.

Though now he was making accusations. “You know,” she said, “I’m not the one who once climbed a lighthouse tower to rescue a damsel in distress.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, and even without seeing him, Olivia knew that he was smiling at her, challenging her. When he laughed, she realized she was in trouble. “If we’re talking about my exploits now, I should tell you that I just got back from New Zealand and, Sis, the cliff-diving there, it’s-”

“I don’t want to know!” She leaned back in her chair, experiencing a return of her headache. Why did he always feel the need to tell her these things?

He laughed again, and they talked for a few more minutes before they both decided it was time to hang up. They mostly avoided the topic of her move, but as Sam said good-bye he made a joke about farms - appropriate housewarming presents - and Olivia thought he would come around...eventually.

She looked at her cell phone, checking the time. It was a little early, but she reached out and pulled her lunch closer, knowing that if she waited, she might not get a chance to eat.

~*~

Natalia leaned over and shifted the cooler away from her feet. They had been in the car for almost an hour now, and she needed to stretch her legs.

If she had realized the trip would be this long, she would have put the cooler in the trunk with the rest of the meal she had packed. When they left the house for their family picnic, she had assumed they were going to the park.

She should have known better. Not only because Olivia had insisted on driving, but also because she had taken the entire day off work.

It just hadn’t occurred to Natalia to question it. Blake was on vacation with Frank, so Natalia had been off for most of the week--it had seemed natural for Olivia to want to take advantage of at least one of those days to spend time together.

And they had been so productive. They had finished the last of the boxes in their bedroom - without getting distracted at all - and then spent the rest of the morning baking together. She had been sitting in the kitchen, nursing Francesca while they waited for pastry dough to chill, when Olivia suggested an afternoon picnic.

Natalia had immediately agreed. It seemed like a good reward for getting so much done, and she knew Emma would be excited. After they finished baking, Olivia offered to get Francesca’s things together, so Natalia had taken care of the food. She and Olivia had met up in the car, and although Natalia noticed the presence of Francesca’s extra bag, she hadn’t really been suspicious until she realized they were picking Emma up from camp early.

She had known then that Olivia’s plans didn’t involve the park--but she still didn’t know where they were going.

Not for the first time during the ride, she turned to study Olivia, who smiled, knowing she was being watched.

“You’re really not going to tell me, are you?”

“No.”

“Please?” Natalia asked. She knew that a similar request by Emma had already been refused, and she didn’t think she’d have any more success, but she was curious enough to try anyway.

Olivia glanced over at her, hesitating, then shook her head. “I want it to be a surprise,” she said. As they turned into the sun, she slid her sunglasses down from where they rested on her head to cover her eyes, and then said, quietly, “I want it to be special.”

Natalia thought Olivia seemed embarrassed by her final sentiment - the mushiness of it - even though she had to know there was no reason to feel that way.

She had to know that Natalia would love it.

“It will be,” Natalia said as she lifted a hand to rest on the console.

Her gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Olivia continued to focus on the road, but she took a hand off the wheel and moved it to cover Natalia’s hand.

Natalia relaxed and settled back in her seat, determined to show patience for the rest of the trip...but a few minutes later the car slowed, and Olivia moved her hand back to the wheel as she turned off the road and into a parking lot.

Olivia parked the car, then turned towards her. Now Natalia felt herself being watched as she stared at the structure in front of them. It was small and it was stone and it had a large number of windows.

And it was a church.

Olivia had taken her to a church.

Natalia didn’t know how long she stared before Olivia’s laugh drew her attention back inside the car. She knew it couldn’t have been very long, because Emma hadn’t complained about the delay. Natalia could hear her in the backseat, putting books away in the backpack Olivia had brought for her.

She felt Olivia touch her hand again. When she looked up, she found that Olivia was no longer hiding her anticipation, her excitement, and Natalia wondered how she hadn’t sensed it this morning. She had attributed Olivia’s good mood to them finally getting to spend a day together...

“Come on,” Olivia said.

Her eagerness was infectious, and Natalia automatically reached down for the food at her feet--only to be stopped by a touch to the arm.

“Later,” Olivia said. As she unbuckled her seatbelt, she turned her head to look into the backseat. “You ready to get out of the car, Em?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, her smile growing as she saw her mom’s excitement. “Where are we?” she asked as they started climbing out of the car.

Natalia let Olivia take care of Emma’s questions while she took the baby out of her car seat. Francesca had been napping during the car ride and she hardly roused as Natalia picked her up. However, when Natalia straightened up outside the car, Francesca whimpered at the sudden brightness, pressing her face into the shirt in front of her. Natalia started to soothe her, but as she drew her closer, rubbing her back, she felt Francesca relax in her arms, heavy with sleep.

As Natalia walked over to join the rest of her family, she and Olivia exchanged relieved looks. They would have a much better evening if Francesca napped a little longer. Emma demonstrated that she had learned this lesson with them; she had been talking with her mom as Natalia approached, but she quieted when she saw that her sister was asleep.

Olivia waited until Natalia was standing beside her, then she took Emma’s hand and walked in the direction of the church. By the time they reached the front steps, Natalia could guess why Olivia had brought them here, but the knowledge didn’t diminish the effect of walking inside.

She didn’t think anything could diminish the effect of those windows.

As Olivia held the door for her, Natalia was already examining them. She had seen stained glass before, many times, but never in windows like these. The glass itself, the richness of it - the deepness of the colors - the pictures depicted in the various panes...

Natalia didn’t stop admiring them until Emma walked in front of her. From the way Emma was looking around, it was clear that her attention had also been captured by the windows. She was studying the ones across from her with great interest, and Natalia wondered if she recognized any of the scenes illustrated in the glass.

Olivia brushed against Natalia as she joined Emma where she stood.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Olivia asked her. She received the briefest of nods before Emma took off across the room. “Oh, there she goes...” Olivia glanced back at Natalia, laughing, and Natalia laughed with her as they moved closer together.

Once they were standing next each other, Olivia turned so they could both watch Emma. Their daughter had found a window that featured animals and now had her head tilted back, peering closely at a flock of sheep.

Natalia had never pictured this happening, when she woke up that morning.

“How did you...?” she said, knowing she didn’t have to finish the question. She was a little surprised it had taken her this long to ask.

Olivia looked over at Natalia with a small smile. “When I was reading the paper the other day, I saw an article on churches in the area...” she touched a finger to her mouth and took in the room. “I thought you would like this one.”

The way Olivia’s smiled changed as she said those last words made it difficult for Natalia to concentrate on the words themselves, but when she heard them - understood them - she shook her head. Olivia had _known_ she would like it.

Olivia seemed to understand her reaction, but instead of commenting, she started walking toward the nearest set of windows.

Natalia followed her, increasingly aware of the emptiness around them. The church had been open to them, but they were the only ones there. She hadn’t seen anyone else, not even a member of the clergy, and it made her suspect that Olivia had called ahead. She thought about asking her, but as she looked at her, expectant, waiting by the windows, Natalia decided she could question her later.

They looked at the first wall of windows together. There, contained in glass, were illustrations of scenes Natalia knew by heart. Despite finding the renditions beautiful - meaningful - she didn’t linger over them. Francesca would be hungry soon, and they had to set up their picnic, so she tried to keep moving to make sure she had a chance to see all of the windows.

But when they reached the next wall, she couldn’t seem to leave. The windows here were smaller, the illustrations simpler. Each depicted one or two figures; most venerated different saints. Natalia found herself drawn to one window in particular. She thought part of the reason it affected her so strongly was the way the light came in through the glass. The illumination allowed her to better appreciate the image, the distinction in its colors--the deep blue of her mantle, the shaded yellow of His crown.

As she studied the image of Madonna and Child, so serene, so peaceful, Natalia felt the weight of her daughter in her arms. She tightened her hold on Francesca, cradling her protectively, and turned to look at Olivia, who put a comforting arm around her side and a hand on Francesca’s back.

When they started moving again, Natalia could still feel Olivia’s hand against her, resting lightly between her shoulder blades. It dropped away from her as they reached the front of the church, and Olivia reached out to take Francesca from her arms. Both of them did their best to jostle the baby as little as possible, but Natalia could tell they didn’t entirely succeed. As she turned toward the prayer candles, Natalia could see Francesca shifting fitfully against Olivia, though the room remained quiet as Natalia picked up one of the wooden lighting sticks.

She lit a candle for Rafe...and then couldn’t decide how to pray. She needed to say so much for him. She needed to pray for his safety, while he was away. For his happiness, upon his return. For her ability to be supportive, when he had to leave.

She felt overwhelmed, knowing it would always be this way. He’d come home and then he’d have to leave again, and she wouldn’t want him to go--

“He’s going to be okay.”

Natalia heard the words as she watched the candle flicker. She remembered Rafe before he left, wanting to come with her to church.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

Natalia felt Olivia shift closer to her. When she looked up, Olivia’s face was near her own, and Olivia was smiling even as she shrugged. “You have faith,” she said.

Before Natalia could manage a response, Emma walked up the center aisle to join them at the front of the church.

“What do you think, Jellybean?” Olivia asked, splitting her attention between the girls as Francesca started to fuss.

“It's nice.”

Natalia didn’t miss Emma’s glance towards the door and she knew Olivia caught it, because her expression became sympathetic.

“Picnic?” Olivia asked.

Emma nodded enthusiastically, and Natalia knew it was time to leave. She turned to Olivia and held out her hands. “Do you want me to-”

“I’ve got her.” Olivia bounced a little, calming Francesca as she surveyed the church again. “Why don’t you stay here and let Em and me get everything set-up?”

Natalia started to argue, but as she opened her mouth she realized that Olivia had already accepted the win.

Natalia let her have it. “Thank you,” she said, wishing she could put more into the words.

Olivia didn’t seem to think anything was missing. “Take as long as you want,” she said softly, satisfied.

Natalia watched them leave before she sat down in a front row pew. She would allow herself a few minutes here, in silence, before she joined her family outside. She thought about praying and glanced in the direction of Rafe’s candle. She still didn’t know what to do about his resistance to her choices, how she was going to talk to him during his visit next week, but--

 _“You have faith.”_

She looked around her, thinking about where she was and who had brought her there. At last she bowed her head, knowing what she wanted to say.

 _Thank you_.

Natalia raised her head and sat back in her pew, admiring the beauty of the windows.

~*~

Olivia lowered her hand and leaned forward, tugging the brush through the ends of Natalia’s hair. She paused while Natalia readjusted Francesca, then resumed her task, carefully removing any tangles she discovered.

She worked mainly by feel, but she was used to it now. During late feedings, it was always dark in the room other than the night-light by the crib. They kept an extra chair in the corner of the nursery for nights like these, so Olivia wouldn’t have to turn on a light or try and move furniture without being able to see.

Olivia dropped the brush in her lap, then ran her fingers through Natalia’s hair to check for any remaining knots. Her fingers encountered no resistance and she leaned back, finished. She knew she should go to bed, but instead she gathered Natalia’s hair in one hand and lifted it out of the way. Natalia responded to the cue, lowering her head, giving Olivia slightly better access to kiss the back of her neck.

Aside from the occasional noises Francesca made while nursing, the room was silent, so Olivia could hear Natalia’s soft exhale at the contact, the sound quieter than her normal sigh.

“I love it when you do that,” she said, “but one of us should be getting some sleep.”

Olivia knew which of them Natalia was talking about. “You let me sleep last night.”

“Because you had to leave the house earlier than me. Like you do tomorrow.”

Ignoring the implications of the statement, Olivia straightened up and looked over Natalia’s shoulder. After a moment, she reached out and slid her hand over Natalia’s hand so they were both cupping the back of Francesca’s head.

Olivia hadn’t realized the action would end the discussion. She had assumed the familiar, not-quite-argument would continue as usual, but Natalia only leaned so their heads rested against each other as they watched Francesca nurse.

Finally Natalia eased away. “Olivia,” she said. “Go to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Olivia stood and pushed the chair back to its corner, then made her way back to their room. With the blinds open, there was enough light for her to see as she navigated to her side of the bed, but she appreciated the fact that she had a clear path now that the boxes were gone.

She laid the brush on her night table and sat down on the bed. As she propped herself up on her pillows, she started cataloguing all the events happening at the Beacon this week. Saturday’s banquet would be the first major engagement for the new caterer and she still needed to--

Natalia walked in the room, saw her sitting up in bed, and laughed.

“Next time I'll have to be more specific when I send you back here,” Natalia said as she climbed into their bed. “You're supposed to be sleeping.”

Olivia waited until Natalia was settled, then shifted to lie behind her. She curled against Natalia’s body and rested a hand on her hip. “This is better.”

Natalia pressed back against Olivia, fitting them closer together. When Olivia’s hold on her tightened, she glanced over her shoulder. “I know.”

Olivia smiled, feeling as if she’d been challenged. Unable to resist responding, she moved her hand to Natalia’s waist. Her fingers teased Natalia’s stomach, then slipped underneath her shirt--

Natalia captured Olivia’s hand, brought it up to her lips, kissed it. She laughed again, but it was softer this time. “Go to _sleep_ , Olivia.”

“Okay,” Olivia said and felt Natalia relax against her. Olivia relaxed too, letting her head drop back onto the pillows. She really did have to get up early in the morning. She allowed herself some time to just lie there, savoring the moment, and then she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.

~*~

- _fin_ -


End file.
